Jess
by supernaturalbuffy
Summary: Sam couldn't move. His muscles refused to obey his commands and it was getting harder to breathe. "What do you want?" he managed to get out as he struggled to take a breath. The old woman just looked at him with an evil grin and said, "You." Limp!Sam aler
1. Chapter 1

JESS

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Okay, so here's the first chapter of my new story. New drawing board, or…writing board I guess. Whatever. This is the story that got the most votes for me to start next so I hope you all like it.

Spoilers: Season 1. So if you haven't seen Season 1…I guess most people have seen Season 1 by now.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Sam. Hey, Sam," somebody whispered.

Sam shifted slightly in his sleep but didn't wake up.

"Psst. Hey, Sam. Wake up," they whispered again and nudged his shoulder.

Sam came closer to waking up and grunted softly as the nudge turned into a full blown shake. "Mnh. G'way," He mumbled as he fought to go back to sleep. It wasn't time to get up. He had just gotten to sleep a little while ago.

"Sam, come on. Wake. Up." They shook him again and Sam couldn't help but wake a little more. He tried to figure out who was waking him. It wasn't Dean. It was too high pitched. Some girl. But who? "What y'want?" he mumbled as he turned over on his back and tried to pry his heavy eyelids open.

"I want you to wake up," said a familiar female voice with a hint of laughter behind it.

Sam finally pried his eyes open and then blinked against the bright sunlight streaming through the window behind the person who was bugging him. As his vision cleared he sucked in a breath and pulled away slightly. The girl smiled at him. Her face framed by blonde curls looked heavenly with the bright sunlight behind her. "Jessica?" he asked with wonder in his voice.

She smiled even more and shifted away slightly to get a better look at him. "Yeah, silly. Who did you think it was?"

Sam just gaped at her for a few more moments. This couldn't be real. He must be dreaming. Jessica was dead.

Jessica frowned slightly when he didn't answer. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked as she brushed his long bangs off his forehead and cupped his cheek with her hand.

He couldn't help but melt into her touch as he felt her warm hand against his cheek. He had longed for this for so long. He reached up to touch her hand and hold it to his face as his eyes slid closed. She felt so real. But how could this be real?

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired I guess," he whispered not trusting his voice to do more than that. He opened his eyes to meet her concerned gaze and smiled slightly.

"You're sure?" she asked as she searched his eyes.

He nodded as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Okay…I just wanted to wake you up so I could tell you Happy Birthday." She smiled again and Sam drank it in trying to memorize everything about her.

There were so many things that had started to fade in his memory that he hadn't realized and then her words penetrated his thoughts. "My birthday?" he asked and frowned slightly.

This made her frown also. "Yes, your birthday. Don't tell me you forgot your birthday?" she said with a smile on her lips.

He shook his head. "No, no I didn't forget. I just—I had a long night last night and it took me a moment to realize what day it was. Thank you for reminding me." He reached out to run his hand through her soft curls and brushed the side of her face with his fingers. Her skin was so soft, and suddenly he hoped if this was a dream that he would never wake up.

Suddenly she shifted away towards the edge of the bed and Sam felt fear well up inside him as he reached out for her, afraid that she might leave. She sat on the edge of the bed and held up a finger for him to wait.

"Don't move," she said and then went into the next room.

Sam watched her walk away and then sat there trying to figure out what was going on. This couldn't be real. It must be a dream. He and Dean had just finished a hunt last night in Lincoln, Nebraska. It had been a poltergeist haunting a family's home that was starting towards more violent tendencies. He and Dean had just gotten back to the motel in the wee hours of the morning from salting and burning the bones. They had been so tired that they hadn't even bothered to take showers before passing out on their beds.

Sam ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes trying to make sense of what had happened.

Jess walked back into the room holding a cupcake with a single lit candle and a box wrapped in silver paper.

She began to sing Happy Birthday and Sam smiled as she padded over to the bed and sat down on the edge next to him.

Jess smiled brightly at him and handed him the cupcake. "Just a little something to celebrate with now, but don't worry, there'll be much more to come this evening."

Sam just smiled as he took the cupcake and then looked at her with love in his eyes.

"Make a wish," she said indicating the candle. Sam just continued to look at her for few moments before looking at the cupcake. What else could he wish for than what he had right now? He paused for a second and then blew out the candle.

Jess clapped and giggled as the smoke wafted in the air. She then held out the box to him and he set the cupcake down on the nightstand so he could take it. It was wrapped simply in silver paper with a silver ribbon around it tied in a pretty bow.

He carefully undid the bow and slipped the paper from the box. As he opened it his breath caught in his throat. It was a leather bound journal with the letter W intricately stamped into the cover of it. He looked at her in astonishment as he took it from the box and hefted it in his hand. He opened the front cover and there on the first page she had written.

_To my loving Sam. Here's something for you to write all your hopes and dreams in so that hopefully one day they will come true. Happy Birthday. Love, Jess._

He ran his hand over the inscription remembering that he still had this book buried in the bottom of his duffel bag. He had packed it in there the night before he left to go with his brother to find their father. Before… "Thank you. It's beautiful," he said softly.

"You're welcome, Sam."

He looked up at her then and leaned forward to kiss her gently on the lips. She returned the kiss just as gently. He pulled back so that he could look into her eyes and knew he wanted more.

He quickly set the present aside and reached to gently entwine his fingers in her hair and pulled her closer to him for another kiss. He let all of his passion, sadness, and love flow through that kiss and soon she was pulling away gasping for air.

"Sam," she said breathily before searching his eyes for what was happening.

Soon they were kissing again as their passion for each other rose hungrily, tasting each other as they tried to communicate their love for each other. Sam's hands wandered over her body pulling her closer to him and he trailed kisses down her neck as she clung to him.

"Sam…what…are you okay?" she asked as he continued to kiss her neck.

"I'm fine." He pulled back slightly to look her in the eyes. Her face was flushed with the heat of desire and her eyes told him of the love she had for him. "I just…I love you so much."

She then smiled and ran her hand across his cheek. "I love you, too."

Sam pulled her towards him for another kiss and she straddled his hips to sit on top of him. Soon, clothes started to come off and Sam buried his face in her hair as he held her to him. She felt so warm and soft and real. He could smell her perfume in her hair. Like lilacs and vanilla. A smell that he loved. He loved her so much.

She kissed his neck and ran her hands over his taunt shoulders as he held her to him like if he would let go she would disappear. He had closed his eyes relishing the feel of her being this close to him and alive. He didn't want to miss a single detail. He then opened his eyes and gasped.

There standing at the end of the bed was an old hag smiling viciously at him.

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Sam sat up in bed with a strangled yell on his lips.

He was panting heavily as he looked around the room. It was still dark and it took him a while to adjust to the darkness after the brightness of his dream. Was it a dream?

He tried to gulp down some air as his heart calmed back down from its galloping race against his ribs. He looked to his left to see his brother asleep in the other bed sprawled on his stomach with one hand under his pillow resting on the knife Sam knew was there. It was just a dream.

Sam let out a big sigh and put his head in his hands. He then began to cry. Even if it was a dream, it had seemed so real. And for him to have Jess back if even for a moment it hurt to be reminded of how much he loved her.

He wept silently not wanting to wake his brother. He thought back to the dream and how beautiful Jess had looked. He couldn't believe that she had been gone for only six months. So much had happened in those six months that it sometimes seemed like it had been years. He almost thought he could still smell lavender and vanilla on his hands and his heart tightened even more.

Once he was done crying he wiped his eyes and sniffled a little before laying back down on the bed. He began to think back about the dream trying to remember all the details. It had been his twenty-second birthday. With a start, Sam realized that today was his birthday. He hadn't even remembered that it was today. They had been so busy with all the hunts and everything that he had forgotten about it. He wondered if Dean would remember.

He smiled as he remembered back on a few of his birthdays as a kid. They usually didn't have much, but Dean always tried to make his birthday special in some way or another. A cupcake with a candle, a special book, or sometimes making sure he could spend his birthday with his friends instead of on some kind of hunt. Of course Dean would remember and Sam smiled to himself.

His thoughts fell back to the dream again and the love he had felt for Jessica. He could still feel her soft lips on his and then he stopped.

His blood ran cold as he remembered what had woken him from the dream: The old hag standing at the foot of the bed. He sat up in bed gasping as realization washed over him. It hadn't been a dream.

Sam looked to the foot of the bed and saw the old woman standing there starring at him and he tried to call out but found that he couldn't his vocal chords seeming almost frozen. "Dean," he tried again but no sound was heard. _Crap._ He tried to get up but found that his legs wouldn't move. _Double crap._ He was trapped and no one could help him. "What do you want?" he managed to whisper as he continued to struggle to move.

She calmly continued to stare at him as she moved closer to the end of the bed her eyes never leaving his.

Sam swallowed hard trying to wet his suddenly dry throat. _Get a grip, Sam. _She didn't seem to be much of a threat visually. Hell, Sam thought he could probably bench press her without even breaking a sweat. But he also could feel the power rolling off of her in waves as she calmly regarded him with cool blue eyes. "I said what do you want?" Sam said a little more forcefully as he tried to figure out what he could do. It seemed that Dean couldn't hear anything going on or she had put a spell of him. Either way, Dean wasn't going to be any help.

She calmly continued to stare at him and Sam could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up at the eerie silence of it all. She finally raised a small hand as if waving at him and Sam frowned in confusion before she spoke. "I want…you," she said with a slightly evil smile on her lips. She flicked her fingers and Sam slammed back onto the bed banging his head against the headboard. Stars exploded in his vision and then all was black.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Sam? Sam, are you okay?" Jess asked him with concern in her voice.

Sam blinked his eyes trying to focus on the fuzzy face in front of him. He tried to raise his head and winced at the stabbing pain in his head. "Ow." He reached up to the back of his head and could feel the goose egg bump starting to form where he'd hit his head. He blinked a few more times and finally Jess's worried face came into focus.

"Hey, are you okay? You hit your head pretty hard." Jess was still straddling his legs and her long hair hung in wavy curls around her face as she leaned over him.

"Yeah." He took a moment to look around trying to get his bearings. "Yeah, I'm fine."

It was his room. Jess was here. Then what was that about the old woman?

"You sure? You seem a little out of it." Jess put her hand to the side of his face and he focused back on her face before smiling.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Besides, I've got a hard head."

Jess giggled slightly at that before kissing him again. "Oh, you're a dork you know that right?"

Sam laughed slightly and rolled them so he was lying beside her and leaning over her slightly. He brushed her blonde curls away from her face and just basked in her beauty for a moment.

She smiled again and lightly brushed his arm with her fingertips. "So…what do you want to do now?" she asked with a playful glint in her eyes.

He looked away for a second like he was trying to think of what to do. "Uh, let me see." He smiled as he looked back down at her beautiful face. "I bet I can think of something."

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Sam startled awake to find it dark in the room.

_What the-_

His eyes searched the dark blindly trying to figure out where he was and then everything came back to him. The old woman.

He gasped and tried to sit up to search the room but found that he couldn't. His legs and arms tingled with pins and needles and his body felt heavy as if he were being pressed down into the mattress. He breathed heavily as he tried to lift his head to look around the room. He blinked trying to get his eyes to adjust to the dark and finally noticed that no one was in the room except Dean.

He breathed a slight sigh of relief and then tried to get up again. He tried to push himself up on shaky arms struggling to even sit up grunting with the effort. Why was this so difficult? Finally he flopped back onto the bed when he couldn't do it panting as he tried to pull oxygen into his lungs.

_Crap. What's wrong with me?_

He tried to roll to his side and found that just as difficult. He finally just lay there on his back looking up into the dark of the room. His legs and arms continued to tingle and the sensation started to become worse. Suddenly pain exploded in his feet and legs and he could feel his muscles start to tighten up. It felt like a giant Charlie horse working its way up his legs one at a time and not letting go.

Sam tried to call out but no sound came out. He tried again with the same results. He then tried to call out to Dean, but couldn't get any sound to come out. Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong. He looked around frantically trying to think of a way he could alert his brother to his predicament. Finally an idea occurred to him.

He clawed at the edge of the bed as he tried to move his body onto his side so he could look at his brother. His legs continued to cramp and Sam cried out silently as they wouldn't move. He finally got his body twisted enough so his top half was facing his brother and then he took a deep breath and brought his heavy arm out to the night stand.

He strained to reach the lamp but fell short by at least a couple of inches. He cursed silently as he felt his thigh muscles clench and his legs started to curl in upon themselves uncontrollably. Sam then noticed his cell phone laying on the stand and grabbed it before falling back onto the bed panting hard from the exertion.

Sam cried out and grabbed at the bed as his hip and stomach muscles clenched and Sam tried to breathe through the pain of it all. He quickly found his brother's number on speed dial and hit send.

_Come on, Dean. Help me._

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

_Rrrriiiiinnnnnggggg._

Dean could hear a piercing ring drift through the fog clouding his brain and tried to figure out what it was. Was it some kind of alarm? Nah, it couldn't be. He hadn't really needed an alarm since he and Sam had gotten back on the road after Dad had left. His brother always woke up early and then got Dean up. But there it was again.

_Rrrriiiinnnnnnggggg._

He groaned as it became louder as he slowly began to wake up. After the fourth time he was starting to get annoyed. "Sam? What the…," he grumbled into his pillow not wanting to budge from his comfortable position. Thankfully after the fifth time it quit and Dean started to drift off to sleep again assuming Sam had taken care of it. Then it started again.

Dean's eyed popped open blearily and he growled as he realized that it was his phone. _Who the hell would be calling me at this time in the morning?_ He sat up and blearily scrubbed at his face as he reached for his phone sitting on the nightstand.

"This better be good," he growled into the phone. There was silence on the other end and Dean gritted his teeth to keep his anger in check. "Hello?" he ground out. "Hello?" Still nothing.

He closed his phone and grumbled in frustration as he laid back down trying to get comfortable again. His head hadn't even hit the pillow before it started ringing again. He swore softly and picked up the phone again.

"What?" There was no answer and he swore a little louder before slamming the phone closed and throwing it on the nightstand grumbling something about prank callers. He put his elbows on his knees and scrubbed roughly at his face trying to get his anger under control. He hated prank calls. If the person called back again he was _definitely_ going to give them an ear full.

He sat there for a moment before realizing that he could see a small square of light coming from the floor near Sam's bed. He frowned slightly and hesitated a moment before reaching for it not sure if it was real or not. When he finally reached it he realized it was Sam's phone, lying open with the dull glow of the monitor shining out into the dark room.

_What the-?_

He closed the phone with a small snap, and as if that little noise had opened up his senses, he then became aware of the labored breathing coming from Sam's bed.

Dean's heart began to race and he quickly reached to turn on the lamp. He blinked furiously as the bright light blinded him momentarily and then he was trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

Sam was twisted into a fetal position facing Dean's bed, his arms and legs tucked into his torso as tightly as they could go with the bedding tangled around his body. If Dean had seen him from across the room he might have thought he was asleep, but then Dean saw his face and the pure look of fear in his eyes.

"Sam?" he asked in confusion and worry.

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Mwahahahaha. Cliff hanger. Don't you hate me just about now? Hope you liked it. Let me know by sending me a review and telling me what you think. Good or bad. Every little review helps me. And don't worry. I've pretty much got the next chapter written. I'll post it probably tomorrow if not tonight. Until then.


	2. Chapter 2

JESS

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Okay, so here's the first chapter. New drawing board, or…writing board I guess. Whatever. Hope you like it.

Spoilers: Season 1. So if you haven't seen Season 1…I guess most people have seen Season 1 by now.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

THEN:

_Dean closed the phone with a small snap, and as if that little noise had opened up his senses, he then became aware of the labored breathing coming from Sam's bed. _

_Dean's heart began to race and he quickly reached to turn on the lamp. He blinked furiously as the bright light blinded him momentarily and then he was trying to make sense of what he was seeing. _

_Sam was twisted into a fetal position facing Dean's bed, his arms and legs tucked into his torso as tightly as they could go with the bedding tangled around his body. If Dean had seen him from across the room he might have thought he was asleep, but then Dean saw his face and the pure look of fear in his eyes. _

"_Sam?" he asked in confusion and worry._

NOW:

Sam just looked at him as he struggled to breathe. "Oh God, Sam?" Dean was off his bed and kneeling beside Sam in a heartbeat's time. Sam's eyes tracked him and Dean could see a small tear escape from his eyes. "Sam, what's wrong?" Dean asked as he ran his hand through his little brother's hair. He quickly pulled away at the heat radiating off his little brother's body. "God, you're burning up." 

Sam just looked at him and it was starting to unnerve Dean that he wasn't saying anything. 

Dean quickly moved to find the thermometer in their bags throwing things left and right until he found it between the ace bandages and some of his clothes. He quickly put it in his brother's ear and waited for it to beep. "Don't worry, Sammy. You'll be okay," he said reassuringly not really sure who he was trying to convince. 

When it beeped Dean looked at the read out and almost dropped the thermometer. "Shit, Sam." It read 103.5. "We need to get you cooled down." 

Dean leaned down to pull the covers from his brother's body and grunted with the effort to pull them from where they had gotten wrapped around him. "Ugh, what the hell?" He tugged a little harder but only succeeded in hearing the stitches tear slightly in the sheet. He then tried to move his brother's arm off of the bedding and found that he couldn't even budge it. He frowned in concern as he tried again. "Sam?" he asked with a slight waver in his voice not sure what to do.

He put a hand on Sam's shoulder and could feel the muscles bunched beneath the surface like wire cables. He then tried to turn him over so he could pick him up and found that harder than usual. He gasped and pulled away in fright as Sam's whole body finally moved as one thing. It was like his brother was frozen stiff. Dean stood there in shock trying to wrap his mind around what was happening. He finally looked at Sam's big expressive eyes and could see him staring at him as if begging Dean to figure this out. 

"Sam can you hear me?" he asked hesitantly hoping that it wasn't as bad as it looked.

Sam blinked and Dean sighed slightly as he kneeled so he could look Sam straight in the eye. 

"Sam what happened? Did something do this to you? Blink once for yes, two for no." 

Sam blinked once. 

"Can you move?" Dean asked._ Please, don't say no._

Two blinks. 

Dean cursed slightly under his breath. "Damn it! Okay, Sam, I'm gonna have to get you cooled down. You've got a really high temperature. I'm gonna try and get you to the bathroom okay?" 

One blink. 

Dean nodded once and then tried to prepare himself for what he was going to have to do. _Okay, no sweat. Just have to carry him into the bathroom. It's not like you haven't done this before. Except he was he was maybe about a foot shorter, and about forty pounds lighter, and oh forgot to mention not as stiff as a _board_. But no sweat. _Dean tried to lift Sam from the bed but only succeeded in almost dropping him off the edge of the bed. He was too heavy and as stiff as he was Dean couldn't get a good grip on him. Dean tried several more times before finally giving up, with a slight growl of frustration. 

"Damnit!" he shouted and pounded his fist against the bed. He stood there for a moment looking down at Sam's still form before storming off towards the bathroom cursing under his breath. He soon returned with a wet washcloth and placed it on Sam's forehead. 

Sam closed his eyes momentarily against the coolness of the cloth and then stared up into his brother's eyes again waiting for what Dean would do next. Dean could fix this. He would know what to do. 

Dean took out the thermometer again and took his temperature. When it beeped Dean looked at it and the color drained from his face. "Sam, I need to get you to a hospital." 

Sam blinked twice as he struggled to take a breath. _No!_ It seemed like it was taking a lot of effort just to get the little bit of air that wheezed in and out of Sam's lungs and Dean's worry increased even more. 

"Sam, I know you don't want to go to the hospital, but I don't know what to do." His voice broke slightly with this confession. He hated not being able to make things right for his little brother. "You're temperature's 103.6 and rising. I've got to get it down and the shape you're in…Sam, please." Dean wiped the cool cloth along his brother's sweaty neck and forehead as he waited for an answer. 

Sam just stared at him for a moment longer and then blinked once. _Okay._

Dean didn't hesitate, but picked up his phone and dialed 911. 

"_911. What is your emergency?" _A young woman's voice asked on the other end. 

"I need an ambulance. My brother's really sick." 

"_How sick is he?" _

"He's got a temperature of 103.6 and rising and he's having trouble breathing." 

"_What's your location?"_

Dean gave his location and waited for a moment for her to confirm the address. 

"_How long has he been sick?"_ she asked trying to get as much information as possible. 

Dean looked at Sam with worry in his eyes. "I don't know. I just woke up and found him like this. Please, just hurry." He then hung up not wanting to wait on the phone any longer. He needed to ask Sam what had happened. "It's okay, Sammy. Help is on the way. Sam…I need to know. You said something did this to you?" 

One blink. 

"Do you know what?" 

Three blinks. _Maybe?_

Dean cringed at how harsh his brother's breathing was becoming and cursed silently as he went to rewet the washcloth. "Can you tell me what it was?" Dean could have kicked himself after he said it knowing that Sam couldn't speak. 

Sam just looked at him trying to figure out how to tell his brother what he had seen. 

Dean searched the room with his eyes hoping something would come to him. Suddenly an idea came. "Morse code. Could you blink your answer?" He looked hopefully at Sam as he blinked once. "Okay." He stared at his brother as he began to blink his answer. "D-R-E-A-M. You had a dream?" 

One blink. 

"Was it a vision?" 

Two blinks. "Then what?" 

Sam blinked again. 

"Old…woman? You dreamt about an old woman? Do you know what she wanted?" 

One blink. Sam was struggling even harder to breathe his breaths nothing more than small wheezing pants now, and Dean hated having to ask his brother these questions but he needed to know. Sam blinked some more and Dean could tell it was getting harder and harder for him to do even that. 

"M……E…Me. She said she wants you? Why? Did she say why she wants you?" 

Sam blinked once and struggled to open his eyes again and then blinked once more. This time his eyes staying closed even longer. 

"Sam? Sammy can you hear me? Sam!" Dean placed a hand on his brothers shoulder wishing that there was something more that he could do.

Sam struggled to open his eyes and only succeeded in getting them to half mast. 

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "It's okay, Sam. You did good. The ambulance should be here any minute. You just hang on little brother. I'll fix this somehow." As if his words had been heard, Dean could hear a siren in the background coming closer and he breathed a slight sigh of relief. He quickly looked around for his clothes and shoes wanting to be ready so he wouldn't have to leave his brother alone for a single minute. 

Soon there was a knock and Dean opened the door quickly motioning for the two men to hurry. "Please, my brother's sick. He needs help." 

The paramedics came in and quickly went over to Sam. Dean hovered close by trying to keep out of the paramedics' way, but close enough to be there if Sam needed him.

"Do you know what happened?" One of them asked Dean as they started to assess the situation. 

"I don't know. I just woke up and found him like this. He's got a really high fever," Dean said as he bounced slightly on his toes urging them to hurry. 

"Sir, can you hear me? What's your name?" One of them shined a light into Sam's eyes as they waited for a response. 

"Pupils are equal and responding to light. Sir, can you tell us your name?" 

Dean finally spoke up. "His name is, Sam. He hasn't said anything since I found him." 

One of the paramedics nodded as he took Sam's temperature. "Jesus. Dan, we gotta get this kid outta here. His temp's 103.8." 

Dan nodded and headed out to the ambulance to get the backboard. 

The other paramedic, Jerry, tried to untangle the sheets from around Sam's body and grunted as he found he couldn't budge them. He tugged slightly at Sam's arm where it was wound within the bedspread and frowned. "What the hell? Has he moved at all since you found him?" 

Dean just shook his head. He didn't know what to say because even he didn't know what had caused this. 

Dan came back in with the stretcher and Jerry looked up at him. "We may have a problem. This kid's muscles are locked up tighter than Fort Knoxx. I can't even get the covers unwound from him." 

Dan frowned. "What?" He came over to the bed and tried to move Sam's arm only succeeding in sliding his body slightly farther down the bed. He placed a hand on his shoulder and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Damn, this kid _is_ wound up tight. I guess we'll have to move him as is. Why don't you see if you can get a line started and I'll call in the details." 

Jerry nodded and tried to figure out where to put the I.V. The kid's position was definitely going to be a problem. He finally decided on the back of the hand and got a line started. He took his pulse and O2 readings. 

Dan finally returned while Jerry was finishing up. "Okay, they just said to get him there as quickly as possible. Now, how do you want to do this?" 

Jerry just shrugged. "I guess put the backboard under him and lift him that way?" 

They struggled to get the board under Sam fighting with the blankets and the way he was curled into a ball. They continued to talk to him the whole time telling him what they were doing since they knew he was awake. After strapping him down the best they could they lifted him off the bed and onto the stretcher. 

"Okay. Let's get him outta here. Sir, do you want to follow us there?" 

Dean just nodded and grabbed his keys ready to go. 

They finished loading Sam into the ambulance and took out with sirens wailing as the Impala followed close behind.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

A/N: Okay, so I thought I would leave you without TOO much of a cliffhanger this time. Hope you liked this new chapter. Let me know by pressing the little button and sending me a review. By the way thank you all for the reviews on the first chapter. I will be responding back to personally before too long. Also, if anyone wants to take a wild stab at what might be wrong with Sam give me a buzz. I'll give you a hint…it is something to do with the supernatural world and not just some sickness. Okay, so, until next time. Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

JESS

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Wow. Thanks to everyone for all the great reviews. I was really surprised at how much of a response I got. I guess you all really like to see Sammy hurting. hehe. And don't worry. I plan on writing back to each and every one of you. I just wanted to get the next chapter posted tonight. Also, if I flub some of the medical stuff please forgive me. I tried to do some research and asked a fellow writer (thanks by the way to Salem's Child for the info I hope I do you justice) but some things may still not quite jive. So yeah, mistakes…all my own.

Spoilers: Season 1. So if you haven't seen Season 1…I guess most people have seen Season 1 by now. Hopefully.

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The emergency room doors burst open as the EMT's pushed the gurney through and soon they were surrounded by nurses and doctors. 

"So what do we got?" asked one of the nurses as she fell into step next to the moving gurney.

"Male, approximately 23 years old. No visible signs of trauma. Respiratory distress. Oxygen levels are at 85 and falling. Heart rate in 120. Temp is 104 and climbing," Dan rattled off as he continued to push the gurney through the hallway.

By this time they had reached one of the exam rooms and they pushed the gurney towards one of the beds. 

"Patient is awake but unresponsive. Also, has full body rigidity," Dan continued as he unpacked the equipment that they had needed for Sam. 

The doctor that was looking over the situation gave both Dan and Jerry a funny look. "Wait, what?" 

Jerry just smiled as he moved to the other side of the gurney helping Dan push it up against the bed. "Yeah, that's why we brought him in like this. You can't move him at all," he said as he quickly unstrapped Sam and got ready to move him. "Okay. One, two, three." 

They quickly transferred Sam to the bed and then moved back to let the doctors work. "By the way, the brother said his name is, Sam. Good luck, Steve. This is an interesting one," Jerry said to the doctor as he moved towards the doors to leave. 

"Okay, thanks, guys," said Steve, also known as Dr. Knowles. 

The nurses scurried around trying to get vitals and assess Sam's condition finding it difficult because they couldn't budge the covers from his body. Quickly cutting away the sheets they continued with their work. 

"Temperature is still rising," said one nurse as she finished taking his temperature. 

"Okay, can we get another line?" asked Dr. Knowles.

"Trying. Not sure where though with the position he's in," said Nancy as he agile fingers tried to find a good vein. "Maybe in the foot," she muttered to herself as she changed position.

"Oxygen levels are falling." Another nurse informed as alarms began to go off filling the room with shrill beeps.

"Okay let's try and get a face mask on him. If we can't, make sure that the canula is cranked all the way to 5. I want a full blood panel done. See if we can figure out what caused this. In the mean time, let's start him on some Valium and a broad-spectrum anti-biotic. Maybe the Valium will help with the rigidity. Get some ice in here. We need to get this kid's temperature down before he starts seizing!" 

The nurses started working as Dr. Knowles continued to examine the patient. He took in Sam's position and rigidity and frowned in frustration. Even with the position, he could see that Sam was having difficulty breathing hearing the harsh wheezing of his shallow breaths. 

"Let's get a shot of anti-histamine, too. Maybe this is an allergic reaction." He listened to Sam's breathing which was shallow and wheezy. He then came around to face Sam and peered down at his sweaty face. 

Curled up on his side in a tight ball with his arms pulled in, it was hard to see the boy's face through his shaggy hair. Dr. Knowles leaned down to eye level and pushed his bangs aside to notice Sam's wide eyes staring back at him. "Sam, can you hear me?" he said gently as he continued to look into Sam's big puppy dog eyes.

Sam continued to stare at him not seeming to acknowledge his presence. _Catatonic maybe?_ He took out a penlight to check the pupil response. They were both reacting normally. "Sam, my name is Dr. Knowles. Can you blink if you understand?" 

As if it was extremely difficult, Sam blinked slowly. Struggling as if he had two ton weights on them, he opened his eyes again but only to half mast. 

Dr. Knowles noticed his struggle and laid a hand on his shoulder hoping that it gave Sam some kind of comfort. He could feel the bound muscles beneath his touch as the heat radiated off of him in waves almost seeming to burn the doctor's hand. "Don't worry, Sam. You're in good hands. We're trying everything we can to help you." 

Dr. Knowles held Sam's gaze a bit longer and then turned back to the job at hand. "Have we got a line yet?" 

"Finally," Nancy said as she finished securing the line in Sam's foot. Another nurse came in carrying bags of ice which she quickly laid at the back of Sam's neck and down his back hoping to help get his fever under control.

"Muscle relaxants and anti-histamine are in. No response yet." 

"Okay, keep the ice coming, Megan. We gotta get this kid's temperature down." Alarms began to sound as Sam's oxygen levels dipped again and Sam's struggle for air became even more audible as he tried to drag a few precious breaths of air into his frozen lungs.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The whirl of commotion in the ER room seemed to slow to almost a crawl as Sam struggled for air. He could feel his muscles contracting even more and his lungs were refusing to expand even just a little bit as he tried to take even a small breath. He gasped for the little bit of air he could get and could see the edges of his vision begin to blacken. Fear gripped him tightly as he struggled to remain conscious. He knew if he lost this battle, he would probably not wake up again. 

The motion in the room slowed even more until everything seemed to stop and Sam wondered what had happened. Everyone was frozen in mid-motion except for him and still he couldn't move. Everything was quiet, his rasping breaths and too fast beating of his heart the only sounds in the room. 

And then out of the corner of his eye he saw a new figure appear. Standing by the far wall was the old women he had seen before. As his fear increased, Sam tried to call out but couldn't make a sound.

Within a blink of an eye she was beside him and leaning down to look into his eyes. Still the only sound was Sam's raspy breaths. She laid a cold hand on his bare arm and Sam would have shivered if it were possible. "Don't worry, my boy, I won't hurt you. Yet." She smiled slightly as she then laid a hand on the side of his head. "You still have time, but soon…you _will_ be mine. And then the debt will be paid." 

Sam's eyes widened as much as they could at her words. What debt? What was she talking about? Hers? His? Sam wanted to ask her so many questions yet he couldn't get even one little squeak out. 

She then gave a wicked smile which made her look even more terrifying as she moved her hand to his forehead and closed her eyes. 

Sam felt a great cold settle over him that seeped deep into his bones until he felt like ice. Silently, Sam screamed as his vision faded to white.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Heart rate and BP are climbing. Oxygen levels are at 50 percent. We're losing him," shouted Nancy as she glanced between the monitors and Sam's contorted body. She felt useless not being able to help the young man. With his condition, they couldn't do much to help. No intubation, no IV, no possibility of shocking if his heart stopped. 

"He's going into respiratory arrest. Heart rate in 170 and climbing," said Megan as she tried to think of something to do. 

"Come on, kid. Help us out here!" shouted Dr. Knowles. He struggled to move Sam's body but was getting nowhere except for maybe creating a few new bruises. "Damn it!" 

Alarms shrieked in warning to his pending failure and all they could do was stand and watch. Suddenly a screech went off and then a steady tone. 

"Heart's stopped," Nancy said almost as if she was holding her breath waiting for it to start again. 

Everyone waited in silence hoping that _something_ would change, anything, so that they could help the young man dying right in front of them. The steady tone persisted. 

One…two…three……ten……twenty……thir-Beep…Beep…Beep. 

"We got a pulse," Dr. Knowles said in astonishment. Then, almost miraculously Sam took a big gulp of air and his body sagged from its rigid position, his arms and legs falling to the table almost as if they were boneless. 

Dr. Knowles reached out a tentative hand and touched Sam's shoulder hesitantly. He gave him a small nudge still not sure to believe that this was really happening. 

Sam's body rocked with the motion and he tipped sideways towards his back, his head lolling back and forth against the mattress. Motion picked up again in the ER as the doctor and nurses worked in stunned silence. 

Sam was quickly laid out flat and a face mask set on high placed on his face as Dr. Knowles began to examine him again. 

"BP is 120/60 and heart rate is falling." One of the nurses said in almost awe. "Currently at 90. Oxygen levels are rising at 95 percent." 

Sam's eyelids fluttered and Dr. Knowles quickly went to his side. 

"Sam? Sam, can you hear me? Open your eyes if you can hear me." Dr. Knowles watched as Sam struggled to open his eyes and focus on him. He pulled back one of his eyelids to check his pupils for reaction and Sam groaned slightly in protest pulling away slightly from the bright light. Dr. Knowles then took out his stethoscope and listened to his breathing as Sam began looking around the room trying to orientate himself. 

"Sam, can you tell me what happened?" Dr. Knowles said focusing once again on Sam's face.

Sam blinked a couple times and a confused look crossed his face. "Happened?" he asked hesitantly his voice slightly raspy. 

"Yes, Sam, you were brought into the ER. Do you know what happened to cause this?" 

Sam's brow furrowed in concentration as he struggled to remember. "A…woman…" he said hesitantly as he tried to get his mind to catch up._ Hospital? Why was he in a hospital?_

"Did someone do this to you? A woman?' 

Sam sighed and struggled to keep his eyes open. Damn he was tired. Suddenly his eyes widened and he lost focus starring at something that only Sam was able to see as a look of pain crossed his face. "Dean……help," he said in a desperate whisper. 

Dr. Knowles frowned in concern. "Sam? Sam, what's wrong?" He looked up at the monitors noticing Sam's heart rate starting to increase. 

Sam tried to turn his head towards the voice which seemed to be getting further and further away before his eyes rolled back in his head and he began to twitch. 

"Sam?" Dr. Knowles pulled back an eyelid to see the eye rolled completely back in the socket. "Damn, it! He's seizing!" 

Spasms wracked Sam's body as he convulsed on the table, his muscles contorting painfully as his back arched off the table. Alarms blared in warning filling the room with sharp beeps and then all hell broke loose.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Dean sat in the reception area with barely contained panic. They had brought his brother in over two hours ago and he still hadn't heard anything. He'd filled out all the appropriate paperwork making sure to include just enough information, but also not enough to cause too much suspicion. Now he just had to wait. He tapped his foot nervously as he stared at the ER doors waiting for some kind of news. He gave a small growl of frustration as he launched himself off the chair. He had to move if nothing else than to just do _something._

This was what he hated the most about their life: the waiting. Waiting for information on a hunt, waiting for the thing to show up, waiting to see if his father or brother was going to be okay or not. He especially hated that last one. He had lost too many people in his life; he couldn't lose his brother too. 

Dean sighed in frustration as he glanced once again at the ER doors thinking, even though he knew he would never admit it to Sam, he was scared. The thought of being alone was the one thing that terrified him the most, and since their father was missing-

"Oh, crap, Dad." Dean had almost forgotten in his panic that his Dad didn't know about Sam. He quickly took out his cell phone and scrolled down the numbers until he came to his father's number. After only two rings he heard a click. "This is John Winchester. If this is an-" _Ah, damn it._ Dean closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to the message finish. _Why couldn't he just answer, just this once._

"Uh, Dad, I know I've left you messages before, but…" How could he say it? "It's, Sam. He's really sick, and uh…I-I don't know what's wrong with him, but uh…I think it's…not normal." Dean looked around the waiting room making sure that no one could overhear his conversation. "Look if you could just…call me back. Please." Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn't sound weak. Not to his Dad. "Just…call me back okay?" He hung up the phone and then began pacing again. 

Dean looked again at the ER doors and sighed in frustration as he scrubbed his face with his hands. This just sucked. He hated not being able to do anything. He was supposed to be able to fix this. His was the big brother, damn it. That was his job. That and to take care of Sammy. And the fact that he had _no_ idea of what _thing_ might have a hand in doing this to his brother scared the shit out of him. The thought of actually losing Sam took his breath away and he had to sit down before he fell down. He placed his head in his hands and his thoughts took him back to earlier that night when he had found Sam. 

The look of sheer panic in his brother's eyes when he had flicked on the light… Dean racked his brain for some idea as to what might have caused this, but nothing…no beast, no demon; nothing seemed to fit the M.O. As soon as he knew that Sam was okay, he would have to do some research. Maybe his Dad's journal would have the answer. 

"Mr. Jackson?" 

Dean jumped slightly when he realized someone was standing right beside him and he looked up. "What?" he asked trying to regain his composure while he berated himself for letting someone sneak up on him. 

"Are you…Mr. Jackson?" asked an older man in green scrubs. He looked maybe forty-something with short black hair and wire rimmed glasses and he was looking at Dean with some concern. 

Dean finally realized that he must be the doctor and stood. "Yes. Yes, I'm Mr. Jackson. Please, call me, Dean." Dean quickly shook his hand and the doctor just gave him a funny look.

"Sir, are you all right?" he asked in concern. 

_No._ Dean paused for a moment and then gave a tense smile. "Yeah, I'm fine." _As long as Sam is okay, I'll be fine._

"Are you sure? I was calling you for at least a minute." 

Dean fidgeted slightly as he looked away and then scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, I was just…thinking. Doc, how's my brother?" Dean quickly changed the subject not wanting to dwell on it any longer. 

The doctor paused for a moment and then decided to let it drop. "Well, he's stable. He's still got a really high temperature, but we're working to get that down with ice and medication. He's been having seizures due to his high temperature."

"He's okay though?" Dean interrupted immediately knowing that seizures were something that could get really bad. 

"Yes, he's fine now. We did lose him for a moment, but he started breathing again on his own," he said quickly after seeing Dean pale slightly at his words. "The good news, is that the…'muscle rigor'?" he said hesitantly not really knowing what else to call it. "Has finally let go. We gave him some muscle relaxants to help, and after his stopped seizing we were able to stabilize his breathing and start him on a round of antibiotics and fluids. We're also giving him a steady dose of muscle relaxants to help keep him from locking up again. So far, it has been working," Dr. Knowles seemed frustrated with the situation but showed enough confidence that Dean almost believed him and he let out a small sigh of relief. At least Sam was partially out of the woods.

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" asked Dean not really expecting to get an answer. 

The doctor gave a large sigh. "Honestly, we're not sure. We've never really seen anything like this. We're doing some tests to see if we can discover the cause. We thought at first that it might be an allergic reaction. Does your brother have any known allergies?" 

Dean shook his head as he mentally went through all the times that Sam had been hospitalized. "No, nothing that I know of." 

Dr. Knowles pursed his lips in frustration as he mulled over this new information. "Well, we'll discuss this more later. We're going to keep your brother over night at least. See if we can get his fever down and figure out what this is. For right now, he'll have to stay in the ER until we get him a room, but then we'll move him upstairs." 

"Can I see him?" asked Dean pleading with his eyes. He really wanted to see his brother and he didn't think that he would be able to breathe properly until he did. 

The doctor smiled. "Of course, I'll take you to him now." 

The tension in his shoulders lessened slightly as he followed the doctor towards the ER doors. "Oh, thank you, Dr…" Dean suddenly realized that he didn't even know the guys name. 

"Knowles, Dr. Knowles." 

"Dr. Knowles, thank you." Dean was silent as the doctor led him through the ER doors and past some of the other patients. Chaos ruled in the open room, children crying, and others doctors and nurses moving quickly between rooms and checking on patients. Dean's eyes wandered to a young man with a gash on his forehead that a nurse was stitching and he remembered doing the same for Sam or his father so many times after a hunt. He felt a pang of remorse for the kid knowing how much it would hurt to get the stitches done. He definitely did not envy him right now.

"Now, do realize after the seizures and everything," Dr. Knowles said bringing Dean back from his thoughts as they stopped in front of one room. "He'll probably sleep for a while, but go ahead and talk to him. If you have any questions, a nurse can answer them for you" 

Dean nodded absently preparing himself for what he might see. He paused before walking in and then took a deep breath and opened the door. 

Dean sighed in slight relief at the sight of Sam. It wasn't as bad as it could be…had been before. 

Sam lay flat on the bed hooked up to monitors that beeped steadily and an oxygen mask covered his face. Pale and shivering, yet sweating as the fire of his fever raged through his body, Sam looked incredibly young and fragile. Bags of ice were packed around Sam's body in an attempt to keep his fever from rising any further. A nurse was there with a basin of water and a wash cloth helping to keep Sam cool as the fever continued to rage through his little brother's body. 

Dean glanced at the monitors as he came closer trying to figure out what they meant. He'd been in the hospital enough to get the general gist and he knew that Sam's temperature was way too high. 104.5 degrees. 

Dr. Knowles said something about being back later and Dean nodded absently as he continued to look at Sam. He quickly looked his brother over and his heart sank at the sight. "Hey, Sam," he whispered softly as he ran a hand through Sam's sweat soaked hair. Dean flinched at how hot he was and frowned slightly. "How is he?" he asked the nurse as he glanced briefly at her before returning his eyes to Sam. 

She hesitated slightly not wanting to get his hopes up. "He's better. We can't get his fever down though. It's been climbing steadily since he came in, but we're trying everything we can." She said hoping she sounded hopeful. 

Dean nodded slightly and put a hand to the side of Sam's face hoping for some kind of response but received nothing except a shiver. 

"Do you want to…" the nurse asked awkwardly and Dean glanced up to see her holding a wet washcloth out to him. Dean started slightly as he berated himself for not thinking of it himself and took the cloth. "Thanks," he mumbled and then began to wipe Sam's sweaty brow. 

Sam shivered as the cool cloth passed over his face and Dean had to swallow his emotions down before they spilled out. He hated that something had happened to Sam and he knew that it wasn't something that was going to be solved with science. If Sam would just wake up… 

Sam's head shifted slightly towards Dean's hand and Dean stilled the cloth mid-swipe. 

"Sam?" he asked hesitantly not sure if the motion had been conscious. 

Sam twitched slightly the other direction and let out a slight whimper. 

"Sam, can you hear me?" Dean asked as he moved the cloth across his brother's brow. 

Sam's hand twitched and he tossed his head to the side again as if he were trying to find something. "Jess?" Sam whispered so softly Dean wasn't sure he'd even heard it. 

"Sam, you with me?" Dean asked fearing that he knew what was going on. 

Sam's cheek twitched and he threw his head to side again. "No, Jess," he said more forcibly and Dean cursed their bed luck. 

"Who's, Jess?" the nursed asked not sure what to make of it. 

Dean just frowned and grabbed Sam's shoulder hoping that his touch would ground Sam enough to snap him out of it. He then looked up at the nurse with worry in his eyes. "She was his girlfriend. She died earlier this year in a fire," 

Dean shook Sam's shoulder slightly trying to wake him. "Sam, come on. It's just a dream." 

Sam thrashed back and forth even more. "Jess, no. No, don't!" Sam tried to raise his arm off the bed and got tangled in the cords surrounding him. 

"He must be hallucinating because of the fever. We've got to get him calmed down before he hurts himself," said the nurse as she reached for a needle and syringe. 

"No! No, I can calm him down. Just…please," Dean turned pleading eyes towards her before turning his attention back to Sam. 

The nurse hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

Sam's heart rate increased as he became more agitated and Dean tried to calm him down as he held onto his arms to keep him from thrashing around. "Sam, come on. Wake up! It's just a dream." 

He let go with one hand so that he could put a hand to Sam's cheek. He could feel the intense heat radiating off of Sam almost burning his hand but he didn't pull away. He shushed and mumbled incoherent things trying to get Sam to calm as he ran a finger across Sam's cheek in calming strokes. Finally, he started humming not even realizing he was doing it until Sam finally started to calm down. 

In minutes, though it seemed like hours to Dean, Sam's thrashing quieted until there was only the occasional twitch. Dean continued to hum as he moved his hand to brush through Sam's hair and rub his thumb across his sweaty brow. 

Finally, Sam released a heavy breath before his breathing evened out letting Dean know that the nightmare had passed and Sam was asleep again. Dean finally quit humming and sighed in relief as he moved away from his brother to sit in the chair next to the bed. 

The nurse, Megan, her name tag said, started checking to make sure that Sam was okay and that he hadn't pulled out his I.V.s. as she kept giving Dean furtive glances. "Metallica?" she asked glancing at Dean with a raised eyebrow. 

Dean grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I don't know that many lull-a-bys," he said sarcastically. 

Megan just laughed softly and gave him a half-smile. "Fair enough. At least it worked." 

Dean nodded in agreement before getting back up and reached over to re-wet his washcloth. He laid it on Sam's forehead as Megan took his temperature again. When it beeped she frowned at the number. 

"Not good?" Dean asked worriedly. 

She just shook her head. "Still rising. 104.6 We're gonna have to try something else. A temperature this high…" She didn't need to finish that statement because Dean knew what could happen. "I'll be back in just a minute." 

She quickly hurried away leaving Dean alone with Sam. Dean continued rewetting the washcloth and swiping it over Sam's face and body trying to relieve some of the heat. "Don't worry, Sam. We'll figure this out and get you better. Just…" Dean blinked several times as emotions swept through him. He would figure this out and then Sam would be okay. He had to be. "Just hang in there Sam. We'll figure this out and get you better in no time. Otherwise, I'll kick your ass."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

A/N: Okay. There it is. Please tell me what you think. I really love to hear from you. Also, if you have any ideas in how I could improve this let me know. I always like a little scrutiny. 

A/N2: Okay, Megan, there you go. I hope you liked the part that made for you. Who knows, she may have a bigger part later on. hehe. Until later.


	4. Chapter 4

JESS

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Okay, first off…thanks for all the great reviews and don't worry, I will respond. It's just been a little crazy the last two weeks. Also, if I flub some of the medical stuff please forgive me. I tried to do some research and asked a fellow writer (thanks by the way to Salem's Child for the info I hope I do you justice) but some things may still not quite jive. So yeah, mistakes…all my own.

Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood." But other than that, I hope I got things right.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sam felt like he was floating, suspended between those two points of awake and asleep, not really wanting to go either way. He knew he should probably wake up, but the pull towards sleep was so much more enticing. The bed shifted slightly and Sam frowned at the movement. _No, it wasn't time to get up._

"Crap. Sam, wake up."

The bed jostled even more and the warm line down the side of his body pulled away leaving him wanting to pull the blanket closer.

"Sam, come _on_. We're gonna be late."

Sam cracked his eyes open just in time to see a blonde blur fly out of the bedroom towards the bathroom. Suddenly more awake, Sam slowly sat up and looked around with a confused look on his face. "Late?"

Jess came back in the room as she quickly brushed out her hair and gave him an incredulous look. "_Yes_…late. My class starts in like _five_ minutes." She finished brushing her hair and reached to grab her shoes. "Professor Woods is gonna kill me," she grumbled as she quickly tried to pull her shoes on while standing up. "I've already been late three times. I can't afford to be-" her words cut off as she lost her balance and flailed helplessly as she fell with a graceless thump on the side of the bed doing a face plant into the soft blankets.

Sam snickered slightly and bit his lip trying to keep from laughing.

Jess just looked up at him from where she had fallen, slowly pulling her hair back so she could give him a proper glare. "Did you just _laugh_ at me?" she asked with mock anger.

Sam tried to keep a straight face as he watched Jess pick herself up off the bed and stand there with hands on hips and a challenge in her eyes. "No," he said seriously before he burst out laughing. "That was just too funny," he said as he sat there still laughing at her.

Jess just stood there in shock for a second before jumping up on the bed and grabbing a pillow so that she could beat him over the head with it.

Sam just continued to laugh as he tried to fend off her blows watching as a few feathers escaped into the air. "Okay, stop! No, no come on. Okay! I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you. Okay," he said with a smile on his face and his hands still raised in defense.

"Oh, yeah?" Jess asked as she continued to hit him with the pillow. "Then what…would you…call it?" she asked punctuating her words with hits as a smile began to play over her lips. She reared back to bop him one more time for good measure, and Sam snuck his hand inside her swing and grabbed her around the waist. As he pulled her down to him, she gave out a little squeak as she realized she was falling and then giggled as she fell against him.

Sam kissed her gently, smiling against her lips as she kissed him back both of them laughing now before they began to calm, and the kissing started to become more serious.

"I'm sorry," Sam said seriously. "I shouldn't have laughed." He kissed her again in apology and to show her how much he really loved her.

They continued to kiss for a few more moments until Jess suddenly groaned and started to pull away. "Ugh, Sam, we can't. I'm going to be late."

When Sam didn't let go she made a sound of disgust. "No, Sam, come on," she said as she pushed him away and tried to climb off of the bed. "We're gonna be late." She was about to slip off the edge to finish getting ready when strong arms snaked around her waist and pulled her back towards him so she was leaning up against his chest and he could rest his chin on her shoulder. She just sighed and leaned back relishing the feel of his strong arms around her.

"Can't we just stay in today?" he asked softly against her ear. "Play hooky?" He kissed her neck slightly before settling his chin back on her shoulder. He rocked them slightly as he closed his eyes remembering exactly how this used to feel. He had forgotten how much he loved just holding her like this.

"I never thought I'd hear you say _that_," she said not looking at him before frowning slightly. She then pulled away and Sam was reluctant to let her go. She turned so she could look at him and Sam could tell that she was worried. "You sure you're okay?" She reached up to brush a hand through his hair and Sam reached a hand up to capture her hand against the side of his face. "You've been acting…_strange_ all morning."

Sam closed his eyes feeling her warm hand lying gently against his face and wanted to tell her everything. All about his family, about what he knew, and what he was sad to say he _knew _would happen. But instead he just smiled. "I'm fine," he said before kissing the palm of her hand.

Jess just frowned in confusion knowing that he wasn't saying something.

He quickly lowered her hand to the mattress before quickly moving off the bed and hurrying towards the bathroom. "Well, hurry up," he said as he continued walking away. "We wouldn't want you to be late now would we," he said playfully before closing the door behind him.

Jess just stared after him for a moment before shaking herself. "Yeah right, I'm not the one that's still in my pajamas," she yelled through the door as she finished putting on her shoes. She just shook her head and smiled slightly. "Sometimes I just don't get you," she said to herself before looking back to where Sam had just disappeared.

In no time flat, they were both dressed and heading out the door, never realizing that someone was watching them from across the street as they walked quickly towards campus.

As they walked along hand in hand talking about things that they were going to do later, Sam suddenly started to feel like something was wrong. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck raise and his steps started to slow. Suddenly, he realized what was wrong.

Someone was watching them.

Even after all these years of being out of the hunt, Sam's instincts were still sharp and he knew what it felt like to have someone following him. But were they following him...or them?

He looked around the street distractedly trying to figure out what to do next, and Jess just looked at him quizzically. "Sam?"

He suddenly saw a news stand up ahead and an idea came to him. "Hey, why don't you go on up ahead? I want to get a paper really quick."

Jess just looked at him for a moment with a raised eyebrow not sure what to think of his weird behavior.

Sam disentangled his hand from hers and started to veer off towards the news stand. "Don't worry. I'll catch up. Go. You'll be late." He shooed her along and gave her a smile to let her know that he was okay. _Please, Jess, just…go._

Jess hesitated for a moment more before continuing on, glancing back at him every once in a while.

As he watched Jess head on towards campus, Sam tried to act normally as he went to the news stand and picked out a paper. He knew he was probably being paranoid, but after years of _having _to be paranoid, he just couldn't shake the feeling. He quickly paid smiling at the man behind the stand before pretending to stand there for a moment looking at the headlines as he casually turned slightly back the way they had come. As he stood there, he kept telling himself he was just paranoid but what could it hurt to check. He quickly looked up making sure not to move his head and looked back the way they came studying the street for anybody out of place.

To the casual observer, it would have looked just like any busy sidewalk crowed with people, but to Sam one person stood out from all the others.

He let the paper drop slightly in his surprise and he saw the figure, who was studying a store window about a hundred feet away, glance slightly in his direction before he turned back to the window, a lopsided grin starting to slide across his face.

The man knew he had been caught, and he was proud to know that Sam still had the skills he had drilled into him since before he could walk.

_What the hell was he doing here? _Sam's jaw suddenly tightened as he continued to look at the man following him before he roughly folded the paper in his hands, and headed back down the street to catch up with Jess.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sam could feel something cool trickle down the side of his face. It tickled a trail down towards his ear, and he twitched slightly in response. Something heavy and cool settled on his forehead and he turned slightly towards it as he suddenly realized his skin felt a little too warm. He groaned slightly as feeling started to come back online and his body began to ache as if he had had one giant Charlie horse all over.

"Sam?" Dean asked hesitantly not knowing if his brother was really waking up, or if this might be another nightmare. "Sam can you hear me?"

Sam swallowed slowly trying to work a little moisture into his parched mouth. He could hear somebody talking to him, but couldn't quite figure out who it was over the hissing in his ears. He then slowly tried to open his eyes.

"That's it, Sam. Come on. Open your eyes. Come on little brother, wake up." Dean coached as he watched Sam's eyelids flutter several times before stilling again. "No, Sam, come on. Come on, wake up," he asked anxiously as he placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.

The more the voice talked, the more he realized who it was and Sam struggled to open his eyes again not wanting to disappoint him. He finally succeeded in cracking them open slightly, his blurry eyesight only making out vague shapes in the room. Blinking several times, he tried to clear his vision before his older brother's smiling face finally came into focus. "D--an," he croaked out hesitantly not sure of anything quite yet.

If it was even possible Dean's smile grew even wider. "Yeah, little brother, it's me." Dean ran a hand through Sam's sweat soaked hair and stared down at his brother's pale face. "Man it's good to see you awake. You had me worried there for a bit," Dean said as a wave of relief washed through him. It had been almost two days since he had seen Sam's eyes open, and the fever had finally just started to come back down into manageable numbers this morning.

Sam closed his eyes and tried to swallow again not able to figure out what his brother was talking about.

"Hey, you thirsty?" Dean asked as he quickly reached for the cup beside the bed. After pulling off the oxygen mask, he helped Sam lift his head slightly so that he could have a few sips of water.

The cool water felt good in his parched mouth and Sam tried to lift his hand so he could take the cup and drink it dry, but his arm felt like it was tied down with ten ton weights.

"Hey, not too much. Don't want you to get sick." Sam spluttered slightly as he choked on the water, and Dean pulled the cup away before helping Sam lie back down. He quickly replaced the oxygen mask and could feel Sam's muscles shake with the effort it took to just lift his head.

As Sam settled back on the pillows, he closed his eyes again trying to regain a little strength and just focused on breathing for the moment. Man that had taken a lot out of him.

A thought flickered across his mind and he opened his eyes again. He slowly turned his head to look around the room as a slight frown formed on his face.

"Sam?" Dean asked in concern as he looked to see what his brother might be looking for noting that there was nothing there.

"Where's Jess?" Sam asked in almost a whisper before letting his head plop back onto the pillow too tired to care about anything else. He thought that at least Jess should have been here if he was as sick as Dean said he was.

Dean just froze. _Oh, god. Did he think that Jess was still alive? _He knew that Sam had been having fevered dreams about Jess, but now…_ What do I tell him? I can't tell him she's dead. Not now._ Dean studied his brother's pale face, fever spots dotted his cheeks and dark circles surrounded his eyes make him look absolutely exhausted. Dean knew that with a high fever, things could get a little fuzzy, but he hadn't been prepared for this possible question. "She just left to get something to eat," Dean lied as a lump formed in his throat. "She'll be back in a little while." He tried to smile but only managed a slight curl to his lips as his heart broke a little more for Sam.

Dean's answer seemed to appease Sam and he nodded almost imperceptibly before settling back into the pillows even more sighing slightly as exhaustion started to pull him back under again.

"Oh hey, Sam? No, no, no, Sam... Come on wake up."

Sam's eyes fluttered open again as he tried to do as Dean asked. "Hmmm. Tired," he mumbled as he blinked his eyes sleepily.

"Yeah, I know Sam, but I need to ask you something. Just a little bit longer, okay?"

Sam made a slight humming noise and turned his head towards Dean showing that he was listening.

"Sam, do you know who the old woman is that you saw? Sam?" Dean asked shaking his brother's shoulder slightly to make sure he was awake. He felt terrible for keeping his brother awake, but he needed to know.

Sam blinked again as the shaking woke him a little more. He tried to focus on what Dean had asked feeling like it was taking forever to try and piece together the few words. Finally, he shook his head slightly. "No," he slurred as his eyes lost focus and slipped closed again. "I don't… I saw…him. Don't know…why. Thought he was…mad…"

Dean frowned in confusion not able to piece together what Sam had said. "Him? Sam, I thought it was an old woman after you." _A man? Someone that was mad? _"Sam?" Sam placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and shook him slightly. "Sam, who? Who did you see? Who was mad at you?" _Come on, Sam. Just a little bit longer then I promise you can sleep._

Sam's eyes fluttered open again not quite focusing on Dean before closing again. "Hmmm?" he said sleepily as he started to drift back to sleep.

"Sam, _who_ was mad at you?" Dean asked again trying to jog Sam's memory.

Sam's eyelids fluttered a little more and he took a deep breath. "Dad...was…" Sam breathed out before his eyelids stilled and his breathing deepened as he finally let sleep claim him again.

Dean sat there in slight shock. _Dad? _Their_ Dad had something to do with this? Or was that part of Sam's delusions?_ Dean sat back in his chair and ran his hands over his face. "No, he couldn't know about this," Dean said to himself not wanting to believe that their father might actually know what was happening. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat forward again. He could feel a headache starting behind his eyes from lack of sleep and he sighed as a sudden wave of exhaustion washed through him. He finally dropped his hands and looked up at his sleeping brother. This was just part of Sam's fever dreams, he was just hallucinating. Yeah, that was it, Dean tried to tell himself. "Of course, when has anything ever been _that_ simple for us, hey Sammy?" Dean asked Sam knowing that he wouldn't get a response. Dean just scoffed and shook his head looking away towards the window. "Yeah…right."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"What did you just say?" Bobby asked not sure if he had heard Dean correctly the first time.

Dean sighed heavily as he leaned against the wall, the stress and lack of sleep making him feel like standing was even a chore. "I asked if you knew if my dad ever tangled with something that looked like an old woman and can make people sick."

Bobby sat back in his chair as he thought for a second trying to remember if John had ever said anything. "No, I don't think so. Of course…John was never the 'sharing' type either. Plus, I don't think I've spoken to your daddy in almost a year," Bobby said regretting that he didn't have more to give the boy. "I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean nodded slightly as he leaned his head back against the wall. "Yeah, Bobby, I know. I just thought…maybe." He knocked his head against the wall a couple of times in frustration before pushing off the wall and began pacing back and forth across the small area. After deciding to try and call Bobby, he had found a small alcove off of the main hallway where he could get a little privacy but still not be too far away from Sam.

"Dean, what's wrong?" Bobby asked knowing that it couldn't be good if he was calling him for info about his father.

The line was silent for a long time and Bobby was afraid that he had lost the connection. "Dean?" he asked again worry starting to creep into his voice. "Is it, Sam?" Bobby hadn't seen the boy since before he went to college, but he knew Dean well enough to know that the only thing that could really rattle his cage was either his father or his brother.

Dean had stopped pacing and he just stood in the middle of the room looking down at his feet. He swallowed hard trying to keep his emotions in check before finally feeling confident that he could speak. "Yeah," he got out past the lump in his throat and his voice cracked slightly at the end. "He's uh, he's pretty sick. He…Bobby I…I don't know what to do," he mumbled and Bobby could tell that he was almost at the end of his rope. "When I found him…he couldn't move. He couldn't talk… He told me, that there was an old woman after him."

"He told you?" Bobby asked not understanding exactly how if Sam couldn't talk.

"He could blink," Dean said matter-of-factly and Bobby just reeled slightly as he took this info in. "Bobby, I don't know what to do," Dean said as he began to pace again. "I don't know if this is just a by-product of his fever…or if this is real. I mean…if Sam had just woken up and told me he had a dream about an old woman wanting him, I would've thought he'd just had a nightmare about an some old cougar, but-"

"Why would a mountain lion be after Sam?" Bobby asked suddenly confused about how they had gotten off on this subject.

Dean stopped and blinked before pulling the phone away from his ear to look at it. _He's kidding right? _"No…Bobby…a cougar is- You know what just…forget it. Just tell me, do you have _any_ idea what might be wrong with my brother?" Dean finished slightly annoyed as he glanced back towards Sam's room down the hall slightly. He had reluctantly left the room shortly after Sam fell asleep not wanting to wake him up by using the phone. As he passed the nurses' station he had told one of them that Sam had woken up for a while. After telling her that he had to make a phone call, she had said that she would keep an eye on him, but Dean still felt uneasy leaving his brother alone.

"_Whoa, _hey just calm down okay?" Bobby said in slight shock from Dean's sudden anger. "No, Dean, I'm sorry I don't. I'll see if I can find anything, but…I think your best bet would be to talk to your Daddy."

Dean just scoffed and rolled his eyes slightly. "Yeah right, I'll be _lucky_ if he calls me back in a month," Dean grumbled before sighing heavily rubbing his hand across his forehead in frustration. "Okay, Bobby, I'll try him. Just…let me know if you find anything?" he said hopefully. He knew that there had to be something supernatural behind all of this, and if his father didn't know what it was then hopefully Bobby could figure it out.

Bobby nodded even though he knew Dean couldn't see it. "Will do, and Dean?" He paused slightly hoping that it would get the older boy's attention. "He'll be okay. Sam's tough, he'll beat this." Bobby prayed with all his might that Sam did because if he didn't…he didn't even want to think about what would happen to Dean.

Dean swallowed hard and didn't answer for a moment. "Thanks, Bobby," he said softly before hanging up the phone. He leaned up against the wall and then slid down until he was sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest. He rested his head on his arms and took a couple of deep breaths. _How did things get so fucked up?_ He rested like that for a moment longer before finally raising his head and taking a deep breath. _I can't fall apart now. Not when Sam needs me._ He then sighed heavily before getting to his feet slowly. He knew what he needed to do even though he knew it probably wouldn't help. With that thought, he dialed his father and waited for him to pick up.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

John walked back to his truck slowly, exhausted as the adrenaline rush from earlier started to fade. He winced slightly as he readjusted the shovel he had slung over his shoulder and hissed slightly as pain speared down his back on the right side. _Yup, definitely some bruised ribs. _The angry spirit he had been trying to dispatch hadn't been very happy when John tried to burn his bones and had had fun throwing him around the graveyard a few times before he finally got the bones burned. The last throw had slammed him into a rather large headstone and his ribs were definitely protesting the abuse. "Man I'm getting to old for this," he grumbled as his truck finally came into sight.

Once reaching his truck he tiredly threw the shovel in the back and then unlocked his secret compartment to put away the rest of his tools. After he finished he headed towards the driver's door and could hear a faint buzz coming from inside. Frowning slightly, he quickly opened the door and picked up his phone. Most of the time he kept it off, but when he went out hunting he made sure to leave it on. Just in case something went really bad. The Caller ID read 'Dean' and he frowned even more as he sat down behind the wheel still staring at the phone. He really wanted to pick up and talk to his eldest son. The last time he had seen his boys, they had been bloody and bruised from their encounter with the shadow demons and he wanted to make sure that they were okay, but he knew that he couldn't talk to them. Not yet anyway.

Soon his phone stopped vibrating and he waited until it buzzed again indicating that he had a voice mail before opening it up and pressing the button. Holding his breath, he waited for the phone to connect.

"You have…2 new voice mails." The automated voice told him.

He listened to the prompts, his eyebrows rising slightly as he realized the first message was from almost two days ago.

"Uh, Dad, I know I've left you messages before, but…"

John listened as concern started to niggle at his thoughts. Dean sounded upset.

"It's, Sam. He's really sick, and uh…I-I don't know what's wrong with him, but uh…I think it's…not normal."

John's heart dropped to his stomach. Sam was sick? Something supernatural? He tried to concentrate on the rest of the message but thoughts that something might be really wrong with Sam almost drowned out everything else.

"Just…call me back okay?"Dean ended his message and John could tell that it was taking everything Dean had to hold it together trying not to show weakness. John hated that he had made his sons believe that showing emotions were a weakness, especially Dean. Sometimes he worried that Dean was a little too shut down. But he knew that for his sons to be safe they had to be strong, and he knew that if you let your emotions cloud your judgment then they could get you killed.

As the prompts for the second message began, John took his own advice and tried to push his emotions away and focus on the present.

"Dad," Dean began. "I really need to talk to you. I think…I think you might know what is making Sam sick."

John blinked slightly in surprise at his son's words.

"Sam keeps talking about an old woman that wants him, and…he said something about you. Now…it might be nothing, but…"Dean trailed off and John knew what he was thinking.

_But when has it ever been nothing for us, right?_

"Look, if you could just…call me. Please, I _need_ to know if this is something we can fix. I just…"

John swallowed hard at hearing the desperation in Dean's voice knowing how much Dean hated seeing his little brother hurt or sick. And he knew that it must be bad if Dean was willing to show some weakness, especially to him. "Just, call me back. We're at St. Luke's in Lincoln, Ne-"

Dean suddenly cut off and the hairs on the back of John's neck stood up knowing that something must be wrong. John could hear background noise over the message and what sounded like a lot of commotion in the background before Dean's voice could be heard slightly muffled like he had dropped the phone away from his face.

"Oh no, oh please not again," Dean pleaded not realizing that the phone line was still connected. "No, no, no, no, no."

There was more background noise, and John held the phone tightly to his ear straining to hear what was going on. He his heart thudded against his ribs as fear gripped him at what might have caused Dean to act this way. He wanted to call out to his son, but knew that it was futile since it was just a message.

He listened with bated breath as more noise could be heard and then a feminine voice could be heard coming closer.

"Sir? Sir, are you okay?" There were a few more noises before someone spoke into the phone. "Hello? Hello, is anybody there?"

With no answer the phone was disconnected. "_End of messages."_

"Oh, God," John said softly not realizing how tightly he was holding the phone or that his hands shook slightly as he lowered the phone from his ear. What had happened?

He played through the message again and again trying to listen to everything except what his son was saying trying to figure out what had happened until something finally clicked, and the background noise finally made sense. When what he heard finally registered with his brain, he could feel the color drain from his face and his heart beat even faster. "Oh, God, no," he said softly as the message ended once again.

He quickly closed the phone and turned the key in the ignition bringing the truck to life with a roar before spinning his tires and urging it to go faster. If he sped, he could be there in less than six hours. As he drove, the words that he had been able to make out in the background noise played over and over in his head and he just hoped that they had been wrong.

"Code blue, room 302, STAT. Code blue, room 302, STAT."

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A/N: Bwhahahahahaha. I know. I'm evil. Please don't hurt me. (cowers behind her chair hoping not to get hit by daggers) Don't worry though. I've already got most of the next chapter written and should have it up either tomorrow night or the next. (peeks out hopefully to see if the threat has passed) Until then.


	5. Chapter 5

JESS

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Wow, thanks for all the great reviews and thanks for not hurting me for the major cliffhanger last time. They are greatly appreciated. Also, sorry this is a little later than promised. I had a small family crisis and that ate up all my writing time the last two days.

A/N2: If I flub some of the medical stuff please forgive me. I tried to do some research and asked a fellow writer (thanks by the way to Salem's Child for the info I hope I do you justice) but some things may still not quite jive. So yeah, mistakes…all my own.

Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood". But other than that, I hope I got things right.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chaos reigned in the hospital room as doctors and nurses worked frantically to bring Sam back.

"No heartbeat."

"Start compressions."

"Give him a shot of epi."

"Charge the paddles to 600."

The steady drone of the heart monitor, cutting through all of the chaos was the only thing constant in the room.

On the outskirts, stood an old woman, seemingly invisible to everyone else just watching. She watched attentively as the medical staff fought to get Sam's heart to beat again as she rubbed the amulet hanging around her neck which began to glow slightly with a steady pulse of light.

"Clear."

Everyone stepped back and the doctor, Dr. Hardig, placed the paddles to Sam's chest. With a whooshing thud, the paddles charged and Sam's body arched off the table before settling back lifelessly against the bed.

"Again, charging. Come on, Sam, fight!"

Nurses resumed compressions pushing air into Sam's still lungs as they waited for the paddles to charge again.

The old woman moved to look through the window in the door never letting her hand drop from the amulet.

She watched as a different nurse attended to Dean who had slid down the wall seemingly unaware of anything except that his little brother was dying behind the door his eyes were starring at so fixatedly.

"Sir, sir can you hear me?" the nurse asked as she tried to gain Dean's attention.

The old woman smiled smugly at the sight of Dean's anguish before turning back to look at Sam as they shocked him once again. His body arched and fell, but the heart monitor never ceased in its steady drone.

"Damn it! Once again, charging. Come on, Sam! You can fight this!" Dr. Hardig yelled as they once again began compressions. This third time would be Sam's last chance. If they couldn't get him back this time, it would have been too long.

The old woman stared at the chaos surrounding Sam one more time before looking down at her amulet which was glowing a little brighter with each pulse and she could feels a slight vibration beat through her fingers where they touched the cool metal. "Not yet," she said softly as she looked back up. "Not until they know the reason for it." With that she straightened to her full height and let the amulet go.

"Clear!"

Once again everyone stepped back and the paddles were brought to Sam's chest. The whooshing thud sounded and Sam's body arched slightly higher before settling back onto the bed.

Beep, beep…beep….beep.

"We've got a rhythm." One nurse said as she checked his pulse. "Pulse is steady."

"Alright, come on, Sam," Dr. Hardig pleaded as he watched the heart monitor, praying that it would stay steady.

"No spontaneous breath sounds," the nurse who had been manning the bag said before continuing to breathe for Sam.

"What?" Dr. Hardig asked before turning to check out Sam once again. After a few moments he pulled away with a frustrated sigh. "Okay, let's get him on a ventilator and run some more tests. I want to get a chest x-ray and an MRI. There's got to be something else that is causing all of this. Also, let's try a different anti-biotic. Something's gotta work."

The nurses just nodded as they set to work.

Dr. Hardig walked towards the door feeling the adrenaline that had been coursing through him start to ebb as the danger of losing his patient started to fade. Now he just had to tell Sam's brother what had happened. He took a deep breath before opening the door and heading down the hall towards the waiting room.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Dean sat in one of the hard plastic chairs shaking slightly as he stared at the floor not really seeing it.

He had made his way to the waiting room on shaky legs after a nurse had asked him if maybe he should have a doctor look at him. Dean had protested saying that he was fine and to prove his point had made it all the way to the chair without falling flat on his face. Now sitting here, he wasn't quite sure if he was alright.

In his head, he played over and over again what had happened. The loud speaker announcing the Code Blue and suddenly realizing that it was Sam's room. After that things were a little blurry, a few images standing out in stark reality. One of those being his brother lying there as still as death and the heart monitor shrieking out a solid note indicating that Sam's heart wasn't beating.

He gave an involuntary shiver at the memory. He would never admit it to anyone, but the thought of losing his brother scared him shitless. He couldn't remember ever being without his brother. It just seemed right that his brother was always around. Granted his brother had left to go to college, but at least Dean knew that he was still around and that if he wanted to he could go see him. To Dean, family meant everything, and without Sam he didn't know what he would do.

"Here, drink this."

Dean looked up and saw a bottle of apple juice being thrust in his face. He pulled back a little and looked from it to the pretty brunette nurse that was holding it out to him. Her name tag read Paige and her eyes told him that she wouldn't take no for an answer. Reluctantly, he took the bottle noticing how his hands shook slightly as he tried to unscrew the lid. "Thanks," he mumbled before taking a small sip. The sweet liquid slid down his throat and seemed to help steady him slightly.

Paige sat down beside him watching as he drank the juice slowly and noticed how pale his face was. A couple days growth of beard shown on his face, and there were dark circles under his eyes. "So when was the last time you ate?" she asked and he looked at her with mild surprise before he frowned in concentration as he tried to think back.

_When did I eat last?_ "I don't know. Earlier today I think? Don't worry. I'm fine," he finished as he took another sip.

She just scoffed at him. "Pfft. If you've had anything besides coffee since you got her, then I'm a monkey's uncle," she deadpanned and Dean just looked at her with a funny expression on his face.

"How would you know?" he challenged as he looked her up and down. Not bad actually. Pretty lips, a slightly curvy figure even though she wore hospital scrubs, and brown hair that was pinned back with small curling tendrils framing her face.

"I know the type," she said never looking away, challenging him to say differently. "Besides, you and your brother are the talk of the hospital," she said casually as she waved her hand around absently to take in the building. "By what I've heard, I would have thought you two were celebrities or something," Paige said as she looked Dean up and down as if she were sizing him up and found him completely lacking.

As she continued to look at him, Dean began to feel very self-conscious and he shifted slightly in his seat. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he said a little taken back by this woman. Most of the time, the ladies went crazy for him, but evidently not this one. And in some weird way, that made her seem even hotter to him.

"Look, don't get me wrong. You two are _definitely_ easy on the eyes," she said with a slight smirk and Dean found himself smiling slightly also. "But to me, your health comes first. It won't do your brother any good if you're put in a bed right next to him because you were too pig-headed to even go get something to eat. But who am I to tell you what to do."

Dean just looked at her as her words sunk in and he started to feel the tingles of guilt begin to slide into his heart. What was it his father always told him? _Family above everything…but take care of yourself too so you can take of them. _If nothing else, he knew what Sam would tell him. Dean finally looked away and then nodded. "I guess you're right," he said softly.

Paige leaned forward slightly and Dean caught a whiff of vanilla from her hair. "Excuse me? I don't think I quite heard you," she said cupping a hand to ear.

Dean gave a lopsided grin and looked up at her again. "You're right," he said a little louder. "I'll try to take better care of myself from now on."

Paige just smiled before sitting back again.

"Thanks," Dean said and really meant it.

"No problem." She slapped him on the knee before getting up. "I'll see if I can rustle up some food for you. And don't worry…your brother's in good hands. Dr. Hardig is one of our best doctors."

Dean gave her a slight smile before she turned to leave.

"Oh, by the way," she said stopping and turning back to him. She fished his cell phone out of her pocket and handed it to him. "I picked this up. It was still on so I shut it off. Evidently, whoever you were talking to hung up."

She then walked away leaving Dean staring at his phone. _Crap. Did Dad hear what happened?_ Dean didn't know if the message had shut off or not before everything went sideways.

He sighed loudly before placing the phone back in his pocket. He'd have to call back later.

"Mr. Jackson?" Dr. Hardig asked as he came up to Dean.

Dean looked up in slight surprise before jumping to his feet his worry coming back full force. "How's Sam? What happened? Is he okay? He didn't-"

"He's fine," Dr. Hardig said halting Dean's questions.

Dean gave a huge sigh of relief and had to sit down before his legs threatened to fold under him. "Oh, thanks God," Dean said shakily.

Dr. Hardig sat down beside him. "We were able to get his heart started again. To be quite frank, we're not sure why."

Dean's fears ratcheted up again as he listened to the doctor speak. "But, he's okay right? There weren't any problems were there?"

Dr. Hardig pursed his lips hating what he had to say next. "There were a few…complications," he said and saw the fear grow in Dean's eyes. "For some reason, your brother's temperature skyrocketed again and he had another seizure because of it. Once the seizure passed, his heart gave out. We used the defibulators on him and got him back, but for some reason he isn't breathing on his own."

Dean's face paled even more and it seemed like his heart dropped into his feet. _Oh god, no. Please._

"_Hopefully_, in time, once his body starts to recover, he should start breathing on his own again; but for now we'll keep him on a ventilator. Other than that, we're running some tests. We've also switched to a different anti-biotic. Hopefully, this one will work. But for now, all we can do is wait and see."

Dean just sat there in shock looking at the doctor not exactly sure what to say.

First, his muscles all lock up, then his heart stops, and now he isn't breathing? _Oh, God._ "Can I see him?" Dean asked trying not to let his voice break as fear and sadness threatened to overwhelm him.

Dr. Hardig studied Dean for a moment before nodding. "In a little bit. We're going to run a few more tests. I'm going to send Sam down for an X-ray and MRI. Hopefully those will tell us a little more about what's going on with your brother."

_Fat chance._ Dean wanted to say, but he knew that the doctor wouldn't understand so he just nodded.

Dr. Hardig mumbled something more before getting up and leaving Dean alone again. The longer he sat, the angrier he became. He clenched his hands into fists and clenched his jaw as his anger built. Once he found out what was hurting his brother, he was so going to pummel it with his bare fists before killing it.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The elevator doors pinged open and John stepped off looking both directions before heading right down the hall.

It was getting close to visiting hours being over and most people were starting to leave saying their goodbyes to their loved ones. John weaved his way through the hall as he quickly began looking at the numbers on doors. 318, 316, 314…

As he neared the nurses' station, one of the nurses spotted him and watched as he searched each room he passed. "Sir, can I help you?" she asked feeling a little a little nervous as he walked closer.

John continued to look around distractedly for a moment before finally focusing on the woman in front of him. "I need to find room 302," John said crisply expecting her to answer without question.

"May I ask who you're looking for?" the nurse, Sandy, asked not sure who this man was, but not yet ready to let him know exactly where the room was just yet.

John gritted his teeth slightly as he sighed inwardly. He knew that she was just doing her job protecting her patients' privacy, but he didn't have time for this. He just wanted to shout at her that Sam may be dying, and for her to just tell him where the hell the room was. But without knowing what name the boys were using it made things a little more difficult. And right now, she held information that he needed. "My youngest, Sam, was admitted here. He's very sick. My other son, Dean, called to tell me what happened but…we were cut off." John swallowed hard remembering Dean's muffled pleas and the sudden feeling like he couldn't breathe when he figured out what had caused that reaction.

Sandy blinked in surprise. _His sons?_ "Oh, uh, just down that way fourth door on the left."

She pointed down the hall a little further and John hesitated for a moment as some of the tension left his shoulders. At least he was alive. "How is he?" he asked turning his gaze back to the nurse again.

Sandy bit her lip slightly not sure what to tell him. "He's been having a rough time. But we're trying everything we can," she said sympathy present in her voice.

John paused once again before nodding and thanked her for her help.

As he walked down the hall he tried to prepare himself for what he might find, but he knew that seeing either of his sons in pain was never an easy thing for him. When he reached the door he took a calming breath and then pushed the door open. The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks, nothing quite registering with his shocked mind.

The steady beep of the heart monitor was the first thing to make sense and then he heard the hiss-click-whoosh of a ventilator and looked to see the tube coming out of Sam's mouth. Lying there on the bed amongst the impossible amount of tubes, machines, and monitors was his youngest. John stepped further into the room taking in just how serious this was.

As he neared the bed, he looked more closely at Sam; and couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lip. When Sam was awake, his face was usually full of worry and determination as his eyes would flash with defiance or calculated calm, but when he slept…he was the total opposite. The worry lines smoothed and his sharp eyes, hidden behind closed lids made him look like the young boy that still resided inside the resilient young man he had become.

As John came closer he then turned his sights to his eldest. Dean was slumped in the hard plastic chair beside Sam's bed with his head resting on the edge next to Sam's shoulder as he held his little brother's hand being careful not to bump any of the wires or I.V.s that seemed to snake in and around Sam's body like bind weed on a healthy plant.

Tears welled in John's eyes at the sight of these two men. His boys. While awake they were the hard and wizened hunters that John had work hard to make them, but when they slept…they looked like they did when they were still young and innocent. John stared at them for a moment longer before finally stepping forward and laying a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Dean?" he said softly.

When Dean didn't stir, John frowned slightly and shook him a little more. "Dean," he said a little louder and finally Dean began to stir.

Dean raised his head up off the mattress and first looked at his hand entwined with Sam's before looking up at his brother's face. What had woken him? He then felt a hand tightening slightly on his shoulder and he turned groggy eyes towards the person standing next to him and blinked several times before he recognized who it was. "Dad?" he croaked out and straightened even more as his sleep fogged brain fought to catch up.

John just smiled. "Hey, Dean."

Dean just stared at him for a moment before launching himself at his father.

John stumbled back slightly as Dean wrapped his arms around him and hugged him fiercely.

For the moment, Dean didn't care that he should be strong or that he wasn't supposed to show his emotions. He was just glad his dad was here.

John just held him knowing that Dean needed this almost as much as he did. "It's okay, Dean. It'll be okay," he said softly not sure what else to say.

Dean blinked several times trying to keep his tears in check and just nodded into his father's shoulder, not trusting his voice to be as steady as his resolve was.

Finally they broke apart and stepped away from each other a slightly awkward silence falling between them.

"I got your message," John said effectively breaking the awkward moment.

Dean just nodded. "I didn't know what else to do."

He turned back to look at Sam and missed the hurt look that crossed his Dad's face before John pushed his pain away and focused on the situation. "So what do you think it is?" he asked getting back to business. _Just focus on the facts, Winchester. No need to get sloppy._ He berated himself.

Dean just sighed heavily as he sat back down and threw his hands in the air in frustration. "That's just it. I don't have a clue. The only thing I _do_ know is that Sam told me that an old woman was after him. Or at least something that _looked_ like an old woman."

While Dean talked, John walked around to the other side of Sam's bed and was looking down at his son's pale and sweating face. He ran a hand through Sam's long hair and noticed how hot he felt. "And you thought that I might know what it was?" John asked looking back at Dean again.

Dean nodded. "Yes, sir, Sam keeps mumbling stuff. At first, I thought it was just the fever; but the same things kept popping up: an old woman, Jess…and you." Dean watched his father for some kind of recognition but only saw confusion cross his face.

"Did you find anything in my journal?" John asked trying to rack his memory for something but nothing was ringing any bells.

Dean just shook his head and they gave a kind of growl before standing up and started pacing around the room. "No. There's _nothing_ in the journal, Bobby doesn't know anything, and I can't find anything that fits the M.O. I just thought…" Dean stopped and looked back at Sam watching as the ventilator pushed air in and out of his little brother's lungs. "I just thought that there had to be something," he finished with a sound of defeat.

He then lowered his head not wanting his Dad to see his weakness as hit bit his lip to keep his tears from coming. "I can't lose him, Dad," Dean said softly making John strain to hear him. "Especially not now." Dean finally looked up and saw the utter sadness in his Dad's eyes.

Dean just stared back letting his eyes communicate just how desperate he was before his father finally had to look away. After a moment, Dean too let his eyes drop feeling so alone even though the two people that he loved most in the world were in the same room as him. He then gave a small little snort of laughter before shaking his head in exasperation.

John looked up at him in confusion. "What?" he asked not understanding what his son was laughing at.

Dean looked up in mild surprise before looking slightly uncomfortable. "Oh, nothing, I was just thinking…Winchester luck strikes again," he said with a touch of irony in his voice. "It always seems _something_ happens to screw up Sammy's birthday," Dean grumbled and John suddenly stopped.

"Wait, what?"

Dean just looked at his father in confusion. "What?"

"Dean, when did this start?" he asked urgency filling his voice as the inklings of an idea started to come to him.

Dean just blinked in confusion. "On-on Sam's birthday," he stammered not daring to hope that this might be a clue.

John's face paled slightly as he looked back down at Sam and Dean was quiet not wanting to interrupt his Dad's thoughts. "He has a really high fever, trouble breathing, and his muscles locked up at first, right?"

Dean felt lightheaded as he stared at his father in shock. "You do know what this is don't you?" he asked in slight awe.

_Could it be?_ John just nodded and then grimaced. "But it can't be," he said as he shook his head.

"Dad," Dean said with desperation as he stepped towards his father gripping the edge of Sam's bed as he stared at his father over Sam's prone figure. "What is it?"

John just sighed and looked at Dean with sadness in his eyes. "Sam was right. It is an old woman after him. The only problem is…she's already dead."

Dean blinked once. "How do you know?" he finally asked.

John just looked at him with hard eyes as the memory came back to him in crystal clarity. "I killed her."

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A/N: Okay, there it is. Hope you guys liked it. So why not tell me by pressing the little button and sending me a review. I like reviews, they make all tingly inside. grin Until next time.


	6. Chapter 6

JESS

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Okay, first off…thank you all so much for the great reviews. I know I haven't replied to like any of them and I'm sorry. I had made a resolution this year to do that and so far I'm really sucking at it. So, to all of you who reviewed please know that I do love your comments and hope that you continue to give them.

A/N2: If I flub some of the medical stuff please forgive me. I tried to do some research and asked a fellow writer (thanks by the way to Salem's Child for the info I hope I do you justice) but some things may still not quite jive. So yeah, mistakes…all my own.

Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood". But other than that, I hope I got things right.

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"Wait, what?" Dean was trying to process what his father had just said and was not making any progress.

"I can't believe she found some way to follow through on it," John mumbled not really paying attention to Dean. "But how? I didn't think it was possible."

"Wait, Dad!" John looked up at Dean just tried to wrap his head around what was happening. "What-what are you talking about? Follow through on what? What is it?"

John sighed and looked down at the floor as his hands tightened on the bed rail in frustration. "Do you remember about a year ago…you were on a hunt in Georgia?"

Dean nodded slowly trying to figure out where this was going. "Yeah, that was what…late April? You sent me to take care of an angry spirit that had been taking out the local teenagers while you…" Dean ground to a halt as he suddenly realized what was going on. "Dad…what happened?" he asked feeling suddenly sick to his stomach. "Did something happen to Sam?"

"No, no it was nothing like that," John said and Dean sighed in relief finally sitting down.

The room was quiet for a moment the only sounds that of the ventilator's steady clicking and cycling as both father and son struggled to find what to say.

John walked away from Sam's bed and looked out the window at the growing darkness. "The hunt…before that job, the demon we exorcised," John began hesitantly and Dean held his breath afraid that if he started talking or made any kind of sound that his father wouldn't continue. "You had gotten knocked out. I still remember the sound of that iron statue smacking you in the head and the way you crumpled like a rag doll...God that scared me."

Dean swallowed and just stared at his Dad's back not sure if he should say something, or even what to say if he did say something. So he just waited.

"You know…I know that demon's lie, but…you still have to wonder you know? How much of it is real, and how much is just to play with your head?" He finally turned back to face Dean but didn't look up at him but instead kept his head down. "After that night, I wasn't sure anymore what to believe."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_March 20, 2005_

"_I'm gonna kill you, Winchester! You and your son are going to die painfully."_

"_Not if I get you first," John said and continued to wrestle with the possessed man trying to back him up into the Devil's Trap. He landed a hard right hook against the man's jaw and he stumbled back a little and John followed up with a punch to the solarplexes which made the demon double over gripping his injured stomach. John then barreled into him using all of his strength to push the man back only stopping once he knew he had crossed over into the trap._

_He quickly backed up and the demon growled in hatred and tried to run after him only to bounce off of the invisible barrier as John danced away just in time._

_The demon growled in frustration as he continued to ram against the invisible wall trying to escape but to no avail. Finally he quieted and just prowled the perimeter glaring at John with black hate filled eyes._

_John just gave a wicked grin. "Got ya," he said smugly._

_The demon just fixed his evil black eyes on John and breathed heavily in hatred. "You know this isn't over? Not by a long shot."_

_John pretended not to be listening as he glanced over at Dean. He could see the slight rise and fall of his son's chest and the tension in his chest lightened just slightly before he grew serious again. '_Finish the job, then you can be emotional,'_ John thought as he continued to walk over to where their bag of supplies laid. He picked up the journal and a bottle of Holy water._

"_Sending me back to Hell won't accomplish anything. You're outnumbered, Winchester, and sooner or later…you'll slip up. Or one of your sons will._

_John turned hard eyes on the demon and walked calmly back to the trap. "Maybe…but in the mean time…you're not going anywhere." John threw Holy water at the man and he flinched away as the water sizzled and sputtered off of his skin. "Except back to Hell," John growled and threw more water at the demon._

_The demon just growled and turned pitch black eyes back to John as John started to recite the exorcism._ "Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei. Patris omnipotentis, et in noimine Jesu Christi"

_The demon growled and his hands flew to his head as John continued to read. "Ah, stop!"_

_John stopped for the moment and the demon stood there panting before falling to his hands and knees. He then opened his black eyes and glared up at John again. "You know…it's funny. You fight _so_ hard to rid the world of every evil thing you come across. Searching for that one demon, yellow-eyes…I think you call him, that killed your _precious_ wife," the demon spat out before smiling as he sat back on his haunches. "Yet…you're actually helping that very same demon in its greatest plan." _

"_What the hell are you talking about?" John knew that demon's lied and he knew that he shouldn't listen, but every little piece of information he could get about the bastard that had killed his wife could be important. "I would never help a demon." _

_The demon just laughed and John gritted his teeth trying not to let his anger get away from him just yet._

"_You don't know do you?" the demon asked in amazement. He laughed again and John's blood boiled even more. "Why do you think Azazel was in your son's room? Surely you don't think it was because he wanted to kill Mary."_

_John took a step forward in sudden fury. "Don't you ever say her name again, or so help me God-" _

"_What? You'll kill me? Sorry, John, that threat doesn't work too well when I know you're just going to send me to Hell anyway."_

_John stood there with clenched fists and then started the exorcism again ignoring the cries and yelps of pain that the man made as the exorcism continued to tear the demon from his body. The man twitched and writhed as he was thrown around the trap and then John stopped before the exorcism was finished and watched the man lying inside the trap panting and shaking slightly. He then crouched down just outside the trap and looked in at the demon waiting for him to make eye contact. "I want you to give Azazel a message for me."_

_The demon flipped over with a pained expression and pushed up so that he could be at the same level as John. "I'm listening," he growled through clenched teeth._

"_I want you to tell him and anyone else down there, that if they _ever_ try to hurt my family again? I'll find a way to do more than just send them back to Hell."_

_Dean groaned slightly and both hunter and demon turned to look at the young man as he began to stir._

_They both turned back to look at each other and the demon gave an evil smirk. "See you soon, Winchester."_

_ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_

Present

"I finished the exorcism just as you began to wake up. After that, I just bundled you out of there and we headed towards Bobby's."

John had finally taken the other seat next to Sam's bed and was now holding his youngest son's hand in his own. Heat still radiated off of his body with fever spots dotting his cheeks, yet he was perfectly still. John reached up to take the warm washcloth from Sam's head and replaced it with a cooler one before stroking his fingers through Sam's long sweaty bangs.

Dean just sat there watching his father and brother and wished with a sort of aching need, that he could be the one that their Dad was showing affection for at the moment. With that thought, he shook himself slightly to clear his thoughts and berated himself silently for the thought. _Snap out of it, Winchester. No need to get all wimpy. Sam needs you. _He then sat forward and clasped his hands in front of him as he worried at his lip. "So that's why you were so quiet after that."

John just nodded. "I didn't know if any of it could be true, and I didn't want to worry you even more especially while you were hurt."

Dean just swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and nodded slightly. He still remembered being at Bobby's after that hunt. The first couple of days were a blur as he recuperated from the concussion that he had received when that statue had knocked him out and then after that he just remembered his father not really talking and seemingly avoiding him. He had thought it had been because he had screwed up. "But what does that have to do with the old woman?" he asked.

John was about to answer when there was a knock at the door and a nurse walked into the room. "Oh, sorry. Don't mean to intrude, but I need to check on Sam." She smiled at Dean and then John.

She was one of the regular nurses and Dean just nodded in understanding as he and John watched her come into the room. "Sure. Do you need us to leave?" Dean made a move to get up and she just waved him off. He then smiled slightly. "Thanks."

She just smiled and started checking Sam's vitals. "So who's this?" she asked Dean trying to break the tense silence in the room.

Dean started slightly and looked between her and his dad. "Oh, uh…this is my dad. He just got here a couple of hours ago."

She smiled again and took John's hand when he offered it. "I can see where your son's get their good looks," she said with a slight wink and John could see Dean turn a slight shade of pink in embarrassment. She finished taking his vitals and wrote a few more notes on his chart before checking his temperature and then frowned.

"Any change?" Dean asked trying not to sound too hopeful yet John could clearly hear it in his voice.

She just shook her head and Dean's face fell. She patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. He'll be okay. Sam seems like a fighter. He'll pull through this. I'll be back in a couple hours to check on him again."

Dean gave her a weak smile in thanks and then she was gone leaving the Winchester men to sit in silence once more. Finally Dean broke the silence by clearing his throat. "So…where were we?"

"She's right, Dean. Sam's strong…if anyone can beat this it will be him." John fixed his oldest with a hard stare hoping that he could himself believe his words as much as he wanted Dean to believe them.

"Yeah…I know," Dean said quietly as he brushed Sam's hand with his own making small circles with his thumb on his brother's hot skin. "But what's causing it?" He looked up again and fixed his father with a hard look. "You said this woman's dead, but this isn't something that an angry spirit or a poltergeist can do. And if I remember correctly, I don't think it's a demon either. At least nothing I've heard a demon being capable of doing."

John just smiled slightly at Dean's reasoning. "No, you're right. It's not a demon or a ghost. I thought it was taken care of when I called the witch but I guess I was wrong."

Dean paled slightly at his father's words. "A witch? Did she put a curse on Sam? But how-"

John held up a hand to stop Dean from continuing. "Dean, please."

Dean quieted at his father's words but his thoughts were going in a million different directions. "Dad, just tell me," he said in a small voice.

John then sighed and scrubbed at his face as he thought how to tell Dean this next part. "She was a witch, but when I met her I didn't know that she was a witch. It wasn't until later that I learned that part."

Dean frowned in confusion. "But then…why did you go after her?"

"I didn't. I sought her out because I thought she could help me. I should've known better but I wanted to know the truth and Missouri thought she could help."

Dean eyebrows shot up in shock. "Missouri told you about her?"

John just nodded. "Yes, you see…she's a psychic also."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_April 5, 2005_

"…_and you think she might be able to help?" John listened for a little bit looking up as Bobby walked into the room and gave him a curious look. "Okay. Can I get an address?" He searched the table for a pen under the stack of papers and books. Bobby pulled one from his pocket and John smiled slightly as he took it from him. "Okay. I'm ready."_

_Bobby went to pour himself some coffee as John took down the address and when he returned to the room John was tucking the piece of paper into his shirt pocket. _

"_Thanks, Missouri. I'll let you know what I find out later." With that he hung up and then rubbed a hand across the back of his neck to ease some of the tension lying there._

_Bobby handed him a cup and John accepted it as the other hunter sat down in the easy chair across from John. "So what was that about?"_

_John peeked at him over his cup and Bobby could tell he was trying to decide what to tell the other hunter. "Nothing really, just a lead on some information about the Demon is all."_

_Bobby just nodded knowing that that was probably only a tenth of the story, but he knew not to push. Most hunters were fairly secretive just because of what they did; but nobody even came close to the Winchesters, especially John. "So what do you want me to tell Dean when he gets back?"_

"_Nothing. I told him I might have another hunt to do and besides I should be back before he's done."_

_Bobby frowned slightly and took another sip of his coffee._

"_What, Bobby?"_

"_Nothing, it's just…the way you've been treating Dean lately."_

"_What do you mean?" John asked a little too quickly and Bobby could tell that his hackles were raised at the question._

_Bobby sat his coffee down and fixed John with a hard stare. "John, he's your son."_

_John just looked at him and Bobby just sighed. "Don't you think he has a right to know that you might have a lead on the yellow-eyed bastard that killed his mother?"_

_John's jaw flexed in anger and he sat his own cup of coffee down. "I'll tell him when he needs to know," John said succinctly before getting up and walking away._

_Bobby rolled his eyes and got up to follow. "John. John!" John stopped at the front door, his hand on the handle and his back still to Bobby. "That boy has _never_ complained once in his entire life. He's never asked for anything even though he probably should have considering all the crap that dropped on him, and you can't even tell him this one little thing?"_

_John turned back so quickly Bobby took a slight step back before John was in his face anger filled eyes staring back at him. "Don't you _ever_ question how I raise my boys again," John bit out between clenched teeth. "I'm just trying to protect them."_

"_There's a fine line between protecting and hurting, John. And I'm not sure you know where that line is any more."_

_The two men just stared at each for another heated moment before John finally backed away. Bobby watched as he picked up his coat and ripped the door open and then slammed it with a resounding smack before tearing out of the yard in his truck._

_Bobby just sighed and pulled off his hat throwing it to the ground in frustration. "Well that went well."_

_Cedar Rapids, Iowa_

_John knocked on the door noticing the protection sigils carved into the ornate door frame. Most people who didn't know what sigils were would have just thought they were part of the design, but John knew that the intricacy of how they were woven together helped to strengthen their power. As he studied the surrounding area he heard the latch click and he quickly turned back to the slowly opening door._

_A white haired lady peeked out from behind the heavy oak door that was fastened with a chain and John gave her a slight smile. "Hi, I'm looking for Lillian Granger?"_

"_And who are you?" she asked rather brusquely and John rethought his approach._

"_I need to talk to you about a matter. I think we have a mutual friend. Missouri Mosley?"_

_The woman studied him for a moment more before looking in his eyes. "Christo."_

_John just smiled. "Trust me. I'm no demon," he said quietly._

_She nodded slightly and then slid the door closed again. For a long moment John thought that she had gone, but then he heard the chain slide back and then door opened again. She was a tall woman. Almost as tall as John himself and lean but John could tell that if need be she could probably hold her own in a fight. He long white hair drifted around her shoulders and she wore a simple shirt and jeans and cowboy boots to complete the outfit. She stood in the doorway and crossed her arms as she looked him up and down in an appraising sort of way. "So you're John Winchester. For some reason I pictured you a little differently."_

_John just stood there a little flabbergasted at the sudden change in appearance of the woman from the meek and timid old woman hiding behind her door, to the strong and capable woman who stood before him with the air on a resounding strength hidden beneath the surface._

"_Well, get on in here," she motioned him on in as she headed back inside. "And make sure you lock the door behind you."_

_John just shook his head slightly. _Yup, definitely like Missouri.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Present

"Wait…you went to her for help?" Dean asked and John just nodded. Dean looked away for a moment and fumbled for what to say next. "But…why?"

John just frowned. "I needed to know."

When John didn't seem to continue Dean prompted him. "Needed to know what?"

"If the demon was telling the truth," John admitted. "He had said that the Demon had plans and I needed to know what those might be. Why they involved us? Why he had killed…Mary." John swallowed hard on that last word and both men were quiet again feeling the loss of both mother and wife still so fresh even though it had happened over twenty years ago. "So I thought that she might be able to help."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_Cedar Rapids, 2005_

"_So you want to know if the demon was lying," Lillian said without looking back to see if John had followed or not as she studied the bookcase in front of her._

_John paused for a moment still not quite sure what to make of this woman. "Yes. Can you tell me?"_

_She didn't answer but continued to study the books before finally pulling out a rather thick one and then walking towards the table that was pushed off to one side of the rather large room. Once she had placed the book on the table she finally looked up at John. "I think I may." She beckoned for him to come and sit and then sat behind the table and opened the book seemingly at random and began to read._

_John sat down across from her and watched in silence as she continued to read not sure if he was suppose to speak or if keep quiet. He wasn't used to dealing with psychics and frankly kind of thought the stuff was a little bogus. Most of the psychics that he did encounter were just people who tried to rip other people off with the few rare exceptions like Missouri and Lillian and yet most people would sell their soul to have some charlatan tell them that their loved ones were okay on the other side._

"_Don't worry," Lillian said finally looking up from her book. "I'm not one of those 'charlatans' as you put it."_

_John frowned slightly and looked contritely down at his folded hands. "Sorry."_

_Lillian smiled slightly. "It's okay. I've gotten used to it. Sometimes you hear things that you'd rather not when you're psychic, but it does have its advantages also."_

_John smiled slightly at that. "So what do you need me to do?"_

_Lillian closed the big book and then sat back in her chair and studied the man sitting before her as he continued to hold her steady gaze. She then sat forward and placed her arms on the table so that she was leaning on the edge. "I need something of your son's. Preferably something that he has used a lot or has sentimental meaning to him. The more he has tied to it, the stronger the impressions I can get and hopefully be able to tell you what you need to know."_

_John fidgeted for a moment and thought for a second. Finally he got up and Lillian waited as he went back out to the car making sure to close the door behind him when he returned. He returned to the room holding a book that had obviously seen better days. The spine was split and the covered was so worn that she could barely make out the image on the front. John handed it over and she felt how soft the paper was between her fingers as if it had been read over and over again the pages flipped back and worth and worn from use. _

"_He loves that book. I don't know how many times he's read it. I think he probably has it memorized by now to tell you the truth," John said gently and Lillian could tell how much he loved his son._

_She nodded slowly and then carefully moved the book that she had been reading off of the table and placed the worn paperback on the wooden table before her. She then reached out for John's hand and John reached out to grab her hand noticing her firm grip. She then settled her other hand on top of Sam's book and looked at John again._

"_I need you to think about your son. Picture what he looks like. What he sounds like. Anything you can think about him. It'll help me to focus."_

_John just nodded and Lillian closed her eyes and took a deep breath. _

_John closed his own eyes and focused on Sam remembering how he looked the last time he had seen him. He didn't think that Sam knew, but if they were ever in the area they would drive by Stanford just to check up on him. The last time had been almost a year ago. He had looked happy as he walked to class with a bunch of friends laughing and chatting. His hair was still long, but John knew that if Sam ever got his hair cut it just wouldn't be Sam. He remember that fated night that was the last that he had ever spoken to his youngest son. He had been so angry. And after everything had been said and done he had just looked at Dean and the shell shocked sadness that shone from Dean's eyes at his brother's leaving had almost driven him to his knees._

_Suddenly, Lillian's hand tightened on his; and John's eyes flew open to see what was wrong. Lillian sat stiffly her fingers tightly wrapped around his in a white-knuckled grip the other pressing hard against the worn book her face contorted in deep concentration. John winced slightly as her grip tightened even more and he swore he heard his joints pop slightly with the force. The next thing he knew, she went as stiff as a board her head snapping back as her back contorted painfully before she began to fall limply to the floor._

_The hunter sat in stunned silence for a moment before quickly kneeling before the psychic to make sure she was still breathing and then scooped her up to settle her on the couch situated on the other side of the room._

_It was a few tense moments before Lillian started to regain consciousness and John breathed a slight sigh of relief._

_Lillian groaned slightly and put a hand to her temple. "Man that hurt," she mumbled keeping her eyes tightly closed._

"_What did you see?" John asked not knowing what to do for her._

"_Can you get me some aspirin? It's in the kitchen cabinet to the far right."_

_John nodded and went to get her the medicine and a glass of water._

_When he returned Lillian was sitting up and gripped the edge of the couch tightly as she swayed slightly. "Hey, take it easy."_

_She accepted the pills and water gratefully before washing the pills down with a few sips. "Thanks."_

"_So what did you see? Was the demon right?" John asked needing to know._

_Lillian gave him an irritated look and he frowned slightly at the reaction. "I don't know," she paused slightly and rubbed at her temples. "It was all kind of jumbled. Just bits and pieces."_

_John frowned. Damn._

"_One thing I do know. Whatever I connected with sure had a lot of power."_

_John knitted his eyebrows in confusion. "Power…what do you mean by power?"_

"_The spirit…that I touched has an immeasurable amount of power. It's still dormant, but it's definitely coming to a head and soon. When did you say your son's birthday was?"_

_John blinked slightly. "I didn't. Why?" he said feeling a frizzon of fear start to creep up his spine._

"_Well, usually, if a new power is to emerge it usually will come at the anniversary of one's birth. And by the feel of things, I said his is close."_

_John gulped slightly as he looked away. _So it could be true.

"_So much _power_," Lillian said again and John looked back at her in confusion. "It's kind of addicting to get a taste like that."_

_John just looked at her now worried. "Are you okay?"_

_Lillian didn't seem to hear him for a moment and he shook her slightly. "Hmm? Oh yes, I'm fine. Just a little buzzed I guess. I'll be fine in a while."_

_ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_

"After that, I made sure she was okay and then left."

Dean just blinked in surprise. "That's it?"

John just looked at him sadly. "No, it's not." John got up and walked back to the room not wanting to face Dean when he said this next part. "A couple of weeks later I got a call from Missouri. She had been hearing about different psychics around the mid-west that she knew that had been turning up dead. They would get sick for unexplainable reasons and then…shortly after their bodies would just…shut down."

Dean felt his throat go dry and he tried to swallow some moisture back into his mouth. "And you suspected Lillian?"

John nodded. "I had seen the look in her eye after she had that vision and when I went to investigate the deaths. Friends of the victims had said that a white haired woman had been to see each of them before they 'mysteriously' got sick."

"So you took care of it," Dean said matter-of-factly looking at Sam laying in the bed the ventilator pushing air in and out of his brother's lungs. "Or you thought you did."

John just nodded and turned back to look at both his sons. "Yeah…by the time I found her…it was pretty ugly. She had gotten addicted to the rush of feeling that psychic power and had found some way to drain a psychic's powers and use them for her own. Evidently, a psychic's powers are just like a person's soul. If they are drained away, the body can't survive and will start to shut down and eventually die."

Dean flinched at that thought and bit at his lip as he studied his little brother's pale face. "So what do we do?" he asked turning pleading eyes towards his father.

Suddenly John felt like he was looking at his four year old son again. Those soulful eyes pleading and believing that his big, strong daddy could make everything right. But sadly that wasn't then or now. John just sighed in despair and looked back at Dean with sad eyes. "I don't know."

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A/N: Okay guys. There's the new chapter. I know you've been dying to see who the old lady is so…tada. I hope you liked it. Let me know by pressing the little blue button and sending me a review. Remember…the good, bad, and the indifferent are all accepted. The bad ones help me to make my writing better and the good just make me all warm and fuzzy inside. Thanks again for reading and I'll catch you soon.


	7. Chapter 7

JESS

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Okay, first off…thank you all so much for the great reviews, and if I didn't reply back…I'm sorry. Just know that I do love getting them and love to hear what you think.

A/N2: If I flub some of the medical stuff please forgive me. I tried to do some research and asked a fellow writer (thanks by the way to Salem's Child for the info I hope I do you justice) but some things may still not quite jive. So yeah, mistakes…all my own. Also, I tried to look at stuff about Stanford on the web but have never been to the campus so if what I write doesn't quite jive. Sorry.

Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood". But other than that, I hope I got things right.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sam came out of his last class for the day and breathed in the fresh air. The sun was shining and Sam reveled in the feel of it on his skin after being stuck in air conditioned rooms for so long. He smiled to himself at the thought. This had been one reason, when he had started looking at colleges, he had chosen Stanford.

Because it was in _Cal-i-for-ni-a!_ No snow, no ice, no wind chill that could instantly freeze your face the second you walked outside. Just…warm weather.

When he was growing up, most of the hunts that their father had taken had been in the Northern or Eastern parts of the States. And what were those areas famous for? Snow. After so many years of seeing piles of it, he had begun to hate even the thought of that four letter word. When Sam had finally made it to California and realized he wouldn't have to suffer through another frigid winter, he had almost run around crazily in the sun telling everyone he ran into how wonderful California was. Almost. Well at least he didn't act _too_ crazy.

Sam walked over to a shaded area of the grounds and found a bench to sit down. He still had a couple of hours before Jess would be done with her classes and instead of heading to the library right away, he usually sat outside and read so that he could enjoy the weather.

After getting comfortable he pulled out one of his text books, a notebook, and a pencil and started to work. He enjoyed studying unlike some students. It came easy to him. Heck, he had learned at a young age how to research for obscure references to werewolves and Women in White and sometimes even in different languages. So when he got to Stanford and was asked to do a five page paper on a simple thing like The Constitution he had almost scoffed at the assignment. Plus, there were no monsters or legends. Just something…normal.

Sam soon was lost in his work and therefore didn't see the woman standing beside him until her shadow finally passed across his book. He looked up kind of startled and then sighed in relief when he saw who it was. "Can I help you with something?"

The older woman looked down at him as if she just realized he was there and then smiled softly before she kind of threw up her arms in frustration. "I don't know. I was trying to find a building, but…" She looked around and then at the map Sam suddenly realized she was holding and he shifted his books off the seat beside him.

"Here," he motioned for her to sit and then for the map. "Maybe I can help you figure it out." He gave her a small smile and she smiled back a little as she swept her long white hair to the side and sat down beside him.

"Thank you. I knew that this place was big, but I didn't think it was _this_ big." She motioned to the expanse of the area and Sam just laughed.

"Yeah, I know. The first time I got here I got so lost it was ridiculous."

She laughed softly at that and then stilled at the awkward silence that suddenly fell between them. "Uh…I guess," she motioned meekly to the map and Sam suddenly felt embarrassed.

"Yes, now…where did you want to go?" he asked again unfolding the map.

"Uh, the Meyer Library?" she asked hesitantly.

Sam nodded and looked down at the map. "Well, you're not too far off. See we're here." He pointed down at the map and drew a circle around the Main Quad and then moved his pencil over to another building. "And here's where you need to go." He looked up at her and she was studying the map as if it were a foreign thing before looking up at him with a sheepish look.

"And where exactly is that?"

Sam just smiled. "Why don't I just show you?" He quickly gathered his books and soon they were walking towards the library her cowboy boots clicking softly on the cement sidewalk.

"So what are you studying?"

Sam looked at her confused for a second and then a 'duh' look came over his face. "Oh, uh, pre-law."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I'm impressed. You must be very smart."

Sam just blushed slightly and gave a little smile. "Yeah, I guess."

They walked the rest of the way just asking idle questions every once in a while until finally Sam pulled up short. "Well, here you are." He motioned to the building in front of them and she seemed surprised for a second.

"Oh, now why couldn't I figure that out?" She turned to Sam with her hands on her hips. "I think I passed this building like _four_ times and didn't realize it."

Sam started to grin and then tried to hide it at her perturbed look. "Well, it kind of blends in I guess if you don't know what it is."

She just snorted slightly as she shook her head and then smiled. "Well, thanks. I'm glad I bumped into you when I did."

"You're welcome. Now…you don't think you'll get lost from here now do you?" he asked jokingly and she kind of rolled her eyes.

"No, thanks. I'll be fine."

Sam just nodded and started to walk away before realizing he was still holding her map. "Oh, I almost forgot."

He held out the map and she smiled slightly as she went to take it.

"Ouch!"

Sam pulled his hand away as if he'd been bitten and the woman let out a startled little sound.

"Oh, are you okay?" she asked.

Sam studied his hand and then sucked at his finger. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a paper cut."

The woman moved closer with a concerned look on her face and Sam couldn't help but feel embarrassed by his reaction. I mean, _jeez_, he'd had a _lot_ worse injuries and hadn't made even _half_ that much fuss.

"Oh, here." She pulled a handkerchief from her jeans pocket and Sam let her blot at the slightly bleeding cut.

_Dang those stung._

She dabbed at it gently until it stopped bleeding and then leaned down to kiss it. "There. All better."

Sam just laughed slightly and she joined in at the absurdity of the situation. "Thanks," he said and took his hand back. "I…better…get going." He motioned over his shoulder and then finally turned to go.

The woman stood there and watched him leave until she was sure he was out of sight before folding the handkerchief up and putting it in her pocket again. "No. Thank you, Sam," she said softly before turning and walking away from the library in the opposite direction.

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"So what do you think it is? A curse? A spell? Could she have found some way to latch onto him from the other side?"

John just shook his head. "I don't know, Dean."

"Well, think!" Dean spat out and then felt embarrassed at his Dad's startled look. "I'm sorry. It's just…" He looked down at Sam and gulped visibly.

John just frowned and looked down at Sam. "I know, Dean. But…I just don't know." He ran a hand through Sam's damp hair. "It might be a curse. But I don't know how. As far as I know she never saw him. Besides, it doesn't explain how she could be taking his powers."

Dean suddenly frowned and looked up at his father. "How _did_ you know about Sam's powers?"

John's frown deepened a little more and he glance up at Dean before looking back down at Sam. "I didn't. Not until now when everything clicked into place. I mean…why else would he be so sick?"

Dean just nodded slightly and then sat down in his chair suddenly feeling even more exhausted than he did before.

"So what is it that he can…you know…do?" John asked hesitantly looking down at his oldest.

Dean rubbed his eyes for a moment feeling the effects of his stress in every part of his body and then sighed before dropping his hand to look up at his little brother. "He has visions," he said softly and kind of sadly. "Evidently, at first, they were just dreams. But then…they started happening when he was awake." Dean swallowed back his emotions at the memory of the first time he had seen Sam have a vision. That far away look, and the fact that he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it except just be there for him. He would never admit it to Sam, but it had _definitely_ freaked him out.

John felt like he had been hit in the gut. He had always wondered if Lillian had meant that the power she had touched that day had been Sam but had never really wanted to know for sure. Until now. "What does he see?" he asked hesitantly.

"People's deaths," Dean said bluntly still not looking at John. "We try to stop them if we can, but most of the time…"

Dean just shook his head and John suddenly felt a wave of sorrow for his youngest. For Sam to see those people's deaths, and then not be able to save them? He knew that had to be eating away at Sam's soul and was suddenly a little afraid of what that could mean for Sam in the long run. He looked at Sam's still form lying in the bed and just wished that he could take all his son's pain away.

Dean watched his father as he watched Sam. He saw how gentle he was with Sam and wondered why his father never felt like he could be tender when they weren't sick or hurt. If Sam had been awake, Dean knew they would probably be at each other's throats within a minute.

As John watched, Sam suddenly twitched his head and then scrunched his face slightly. John pulled back for a moment not sure if he had really seen it, but when Dean suddenly stood up and moved towards the bed he knew it must have happened.

"Sam?" Dean said with a shaking voice as he took his brother's limp hand in his own. "Sam, can you hear me?" Dean held his breath hoping to get a response but there was none. He picked up Sam's hand and put it in both of his own noticing how warm it was. "Sam, please…squeeze my hand if you can hear me." Still nothing.

John sighed in aggravation and walked away slightly. "Damn it," he mumbled slightly under his breath.

Dean just looked at Sam in confusion know that he had seen something. He could have sworn-

Blinding pain passed through his hand and for a moment all Dean could see was white. His mouth hung open in a soundless scream before he was brought to his knees by the intense pain. He gave a small gasp and then a small yelp as pain shot up his arm to the elbow.

John turned around at the thump and then his eyes bulged as he realized what was happening. He quickly hurried around to the other side of the bed where Dean was on his knees with his hand being crushed by Sam's iron grip and tried to figure out what to do next.

Dean cried out again as Sam's grip tightened even more bending the wrist back at an odd angle and crushing his fingers together until he could feel the bones grinding together. He gripped his brother's arm and squeezed as John's hand also tried to pry Sam's hand from Dean's. Dean could feel Sam's muscles corded and bunched beneath the skin and Dean knew there was no way they were going to be able to pry his hand free without hurting Sam too.

"Sam…please," Dean got out through gritted teeth as he fought to keep from passing out. He gritted his teeth and breathed heavily through his nose trying to block out the pain as he looked up to see Sam's eyes were wide open but looking at nothing. A sudden chill passed along his spin and he felt his stomach drop at the sight. "Sammy?"

That one word got through to John in no way anything else would and he stopped in his efforts to free Dean's hand. It wasn't the word, but the way Dean had said it. As if he was afraid. John looked up at Sam and knew something was terribly wrong. "Sam," he said in almost a whisper.

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A/N: Okay, don't kill me yet. (Peaks out from behind barricade of sand bags and barb wire.) I know you all hate cliffies, but I just couldn't seem to find a good place to end this chapter without it ending up being like twenty pages long. So don't worry…I'll post more tomorrow night. Just…send me some reviews to tell me what you think? I really do like to hear your opinion.


	8. Chapter 8

JESS

Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Okay, first off…thank you all so much for the great reviews, and if I didn't reply back…I'm sorry. Just know that I do love getting them and love to hear what you think.

A/N2: If I flub some of the medical stuff please forgive me. I tried to do some research and asked a fellow writer (thanks by the way to Salem's Child for the info I hope I do you justice) but some things may still not quite jive. So yeah, mistakes…all my own. Also, I tried to look at stuff about Stanford on the web but have never been to the campus so if what I write doesn't quite jive. Sorry.

Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood". But other than that, I hope I got things right.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sam stood in an empty room and just looked around in slight confusion. _How the heck did I get here?_ The last thing he remembered was waiting on Jess to get out of classes and then…

He quickly looked around the room but couldn't figure out where he was. No matter how hard he tried to peer into the shadows they seemed to fold in upon themselves slightly making it difficult to see any details. There were two chairs sitting across from each other but no windows or even a simple door to the room. Sam's throat suddenly felt dry and he tried to swallow the sudden lump of fear that was threatening to take him over. Where the hell was he?

"We're neither here, no there," came a soft feminine voice from behind Sam and he whirled to find nobody there. "I guess…you would then say we were somewhere in between." The voice sounded again and Sam started to become angry as he couldn't find the person behind the voice.

"Who are you?" Sam asked bitingly already tired of playing this game.

"Don't you know?" came the disembodied voice again and this time Sam didn't turn.

"How can I know you if I don't even know what you look like?" Sam asked heatedly as he clenched his fists in anger. He didn't know why, but he could feel his anger build as he listened to the sweetly feminine voice taunting him.

Bubbling laughter seemed to echo around Sam and he turned slightly this way and that as it seemed to change directions before he felt a cool wisp of air cross his left shoulder before he felt her whisper. "I'm your salvation."

Sam gulped hard and finally turned to see an old woman with flowing white standing in front of him and he took a startled step back. "You're-"

She just gave a slightly evil grin that seemed so wrong before nodding. "Yes. The woman you helped that day on campus."

Sam just stared at her for a moment not sure what to say next. "But…why?"

She gave a smug grin and then turned her head with an air of arrogance before glancing back at him. "Why not?" She crossed her arms and started to walk around the room as she spoke. "You see Sam, I know what you are?"

Sam swallowed visibly as he watched her pull one of the chairs over to sit facing him. And as she sat down she said almost conspiratorially with a grin. "A psychic." She gave him a big grin but then let it fall suddenly growing serious. "But I know it's not what you want. Is it?"

Sam stared at her for a moment before finally shaking his head. "No. I don't."

She then nodded in understanding and motioned for him to sit down.

Sam hesitated before slowly making his way to the chair. He sat down never taking his eyes off of the woman afraid of what might happen if he did.

She turned the chair back to face him and then sighed as if preparing to tell him this big secret. "What if I told you, I could make it all go away?" She could see Sam start to say something and cut him off. "Don't worry, it won't hurt. I know what having these powers has done to you. The pain they have caused."

Sam felt himself nod even as his thoughts turned to Jess. If it hadn't been for his visions, maybe Jessica would still be alive and they would now be engaged to be married maybe in the fall. He also wondered if his powers had been the reason the Demon had been drawn to their family. If maybe his mother would still be alive if it weren't for his 'special talent'. "How?" he asked in almost a whisper.

She just smiled and sat back. "Simple. You just give them to me?"

Sam's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I just…give them to you?"

She just nodded. "Nothing fancy. I can make all of that hurt and pain and worry go away, Sam. And all you have to do is just give them up to me."

Sam just stared at her in shock. It couldn't be that simple. Could it? He bit his lip as he thought about it. He wouldn't have any more psychic abilities. He would never get death visions again. He wouldn't have to worry about freaking his brother out with 'spoon bending' as Dean loved to call it. He would just be…him.

Lillian stared at Sam in anticipation watching as an array of emotions swept across his face and her body almost hummed with the anticipation of getting her hands on that much psychic power. When she had been alive, she had gotten a taste of the infinite amount of psychic powers Sam held within his grasp and had become addicted. It wasn't until after she had killed her second psychic and received the power of premonitions that she had seen her mistake in trusting John and would need to make arrangements before he came to kill her. She had known the day that he would kill her and thus was prepared when it finally came to have her last revenge even if it took a full year to complete.

Sam struggled with the pros and cons of giving up his powers torn between what to do. Something kept niggling at the back of his brain that this was wrong. It couldn't be this easy. But what was the catch. He kept thinking that he had read something somewhere about a psychic and his powers, but couldn't seem to come up with the information.

Lillian could tell that Sam was starting to put some of the pieces together and suddenly became weary of this game. "Time's up, Sam? I need an answer."

Sam sat staring at his feet for a moment more before finally raising his eyes to hers. "No."

Lillian sat there in shock for a moment before a look of anger crossed her face and Sam suddenly found himself flying across the room to smack up against the far wall.

Sam grunted slightly and then tried to move realizing that he couldn't.

"You stupid little child," Lillian spat as she came across the room to him. "Did you think that you really had a choice in this? I will have your powers and there is nothing you can do about it."

"Do you wanna bet?" Sam sneered before closing his eyes in concentration.

Lillian stopped dead in her tracks a slight look of shock crossing her face as she tried to move and found that she couldn't. She then looked up at Sam and smiled. "Impressive. So when did you figure out that this was all in your head?"

Sam struggled to move and found that he still couldn't. "The minute you seemed to appear out of thin air." He tried to push her away but struggled against her powers and could feel a slight headache start to form from the pressure.

Lillian just laughed. "I knew you were smart. But you're also…just…a novice." She slowly lifted her arm as if it was stuck in molasses and then took a small step forward.

Sam could feel the pressure holding him against the wall increase a little and an invisible hand seemed to wrap around his throat slowly choking him. He gasped slightly but tried to maintain his hold on the woman knowing that at least here he could have some control over his powers.

Lillian took another step forward and her fingers closed a little more as she tightened her psychic grip on Sam. She was too damn close to have her plans come crashing down around her because some _boy_ thought he was stronger than her psychically.

Sam knew he was fighting a losing battle as Lillian slowly made her way towards him. He desperately tried to think of some way out of this running through all the possibilities of what she could be or if there was any way to stop her. Suddenly a thought came to him. "Christo."

Lillian flinched slightly and her eyes turned black as she smiled wickedly at him. "Very good, Sam. You figured out my little secret for making my plans work. Too bad that it won't do you or your family any good," she snarled as she took the last step and finally latched on to Sam placing her hands on either side of his head.

Sam cried out slightly as pain exploded in his mind and he felt like a thousand volts of electricity were rushing through his body. God he had to do something. If not to save himself, then to save his family at least.

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The steady click-whoosh of the ventilator and beep of the heart monitor set an eerie background for the fear that seemed to fill the hospital room as the two older Winchesters stared at the youngest lying in the bed with his eyes wide and unseeing. Everything seemed to stop for a moment as they waited for something that didn't seem to come.

Dean grimaced slightly at the pain in his arm but quickly pushed it away as he continued to stare at Sam. "Sammy?" he breathed out but received no answer.

John watched in confusion as his youngest kept his brother's hand in an iron grip. He knew it had to be painful the way Dean was clutching at Sam's arm his own bent at an odd angle. "Sam, can you hear me?" he asked hoping to receive something but not getting anything. He started to try and pry Sam's fingers from Dean's hand and was rewarded with a cry from Dean as Sam bent his oldest son's hand back even further.

Dean lurched slightly back trying to keep his hand from breaking as Sam pushed his arm back even more and he bit his lip to keep from crying out again. "Sam, please," Dean said in a strained whisper. "What's wrong?"

Sam continued to stare up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes and Dean knew for sure that whatever this was…it wasn't his brother trying to communicate. "What are you?"

The click-whoosh of the ventilator was their only response and both Dean and John just frowned in frustration.

Finally a slight movement caught John's attention and his eyes traveled away from Sam's to the other side of the bed. His brow furrowed in confusion as he rose slightly from his bent position to see what it was and then his eyes lit up and he suddenly pulled away.

Dean startled at his father's sudden movements and he tried to turn to see what he was doing but grimaced as he was reminded once again of Sam's iron grip. "What are you doing?"

John didn't answer as he quickly went to his coat and dug through the pockets until he came up with a pen and notepad.

"Dad?" Dean asked in confusion not sure what John was doing as he walked around to the other side of the bed.

John could feel his heart thump loudly in his ears as hesitantly took Sam's hand in his.

"Dad!" Dean almost shouted and John finally looked up at him hoping to hold off the questions for just a moment longer.

As John picked up Sam's frantically moving hand and put the pen between the fingers Sam quickly gripped the pen and John laid it down on the pad of paper.

At first there was no movement and John held his breath until the pen finally started to move and he couldn't help but grin slightly.

Dean just looked between him and Sam with a bewildered look on his face not sure what to think and then things finally started to click together. "Auto-writing?" he asked in almost awe.

John nodded slightly and pursed his lips as he watched Sam's fingers move jerkily at first but then more frantically as he worked his way across the paper. John recognized his son's neat scrawl and turned to try and read what it said but couldn't because Sam's hand was still in the way. As he ran out of room, John quickly changed the page the rustling of the paper the only other sound in the room.

Dean sat in the tense silence looking between his father and Sam wishing that this wasn't happening. His arm gave a dull throb of protest at how it was being treated and Dean tried to move a little but couldn't. He looked up at Sam and couldn't help but feel a sense of dread that this wasn't the last they would see of this and just hoped that when this was over that Sam wouldn't be permanently damaged by it.

A minute more and John watched as Sam's hand began to shake the lines wobbly as he continued to frantically write until his whole body was shivering and John gulped in fear that this was just the begging of something bad. "Dean?"

Dean just watched feeling the quiver of Sam's shaking radiate through his iron grip make Dean's arm vibrate before Sam's clenched once more and Dean double in on his hurt arm trying to free it.

John watched in horror as the pen finally stopped mid-word as if Sam had been interrupted and then his fingers wrapped around the pen so tightly Sam's knuckles turned white.

He only had a second to realize what was happening before lightning quick Sam started to plunge the pen towards Dean's back. "NO!" He grabbed for Sam's arm barely catching it before he buried the pen in his brother's back.

All three Winchester's struggled in a tangle of arms on the bed for a moment with John doing everything possible to hold Sam's arm back. He looked down at his son and with one final thought desperately said, "Christo."

Sam finally blinked hard and when his eyes opened again they weren't the black that John had feared, but they seemed to hold a bit of clarity as they stared up at the ceiling before they slowly made their way to his face.

"Sam?" John asked hesitantly still holding his son's arm away from Dean.

Sam continued to stare at him for a second more before his eyes rolled up in his head and they closed.

Both John and Dean gave out a startled whoosh of air at the sudden release of tension from Sam's body as he seemed to fall limply to the bed and John stumbled back slightly from the momentum of his pull as the pen fell limply from Sam's hand to clatter on the floor. He then stood there staring in awestruck wonder.

Dean moved slowly as he removed his hand from Sam's now limp one wincing slightly at the sharp pain radiating from his crushed fingers before cradling the hurt arm to his chest protectively as he stared at Sam. He took a step away and tried to get his heart to stop pounding so damn loud in his ears.

The ventilator continued its steady click-whoosh as if nothing had ever happened adding a sense of creepiness to the situation.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked completely confused hoping that his Dad would have some kind of answer.

John just shook his head, slightly out of breath at a complete loss. He looked down at the forgotten pad of paper and reached to pick it up.

Both men started as a loud piercing beep broke the silence and John felt the color drain from his face when he realized what was wrong. "No."

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A/N: Well, there you go. The next chapter as promised, and yes I know another cliffie. Please don't hurt me. (says meekly as I hide behind my chair) LOL. Hopefully this explains a little bit more about what's going on with Sam. Anyway, let me know what you think by sending me a review. I'd really like to know what you think. It makes me feel all tingly inside. Until next time.


	9. Chapter 9

JESS

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: (tap, tap, tap) Hello, anybody still out there? If you are…thank you so much for sticking with me through the _incredibly_ long update time for this chapter. My life here lately has been…chaotic? Nah, too light of a word. I know that it's no excuse and I will try not to let it happen again. Also, thank you so much for all the great reviews. If I didn't get a response back to you please know that I do love getting them.

A/N2: If I flub some of the medical stuff please forgive me. I tried to do some research and asked a fellow writer on some of the points (thanks by the way to Salem's Child for the info I hope I do you justice) but some things may still not quite jive. So yeah, mistakes…all my own. Also, I tried to look at stuff about Stanford on the web but have never been to the campus so if what I write doesn't quite work. Sorry.

Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood". But other than that, I hope I got things right.

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Summary from past chapter:

Sam becomes deathly ill with no explanation and somehow it is connected to his dad. After a phone call from Dean, John shows up and explains about a psychic named Lillian who he thinks might be trying to take Sam's psychic powers from him and thus killing him even though he knows that she is dead. Meanwhile, Sam has been having 'dreams' about being at Stanford with Jess on his 22nd birthday, and after a confrontation with Lillian in his mind he tries to communicate with his family to warn them of the pending threat.

THEN

_Dean moved slowly as he removed his hand from Sam's now limp one wincing slightly at the sharp pain radiating from his crushed fingers before carefully cradling the hurt arm to his chest protectively as he stared at Sam. He took a step away and tried to get his heart to stop pounding so damn loud in his ears._

_The ventilator continued its steady click-whoosh as if nothing had ever happened which seemed to add a sense of creepiness to the situation._

"_What the hell was that?" Dean asked completely confused hoping that his Dad would have some kind of answer._

_John just shook his head, slightly out of breath also at a complete loss. He looked down at the forgotten pad of paper and reached to pick it up._

_Both men started as a loud piercing beep broke the silence and John felt the color drain from his face when he realized what was wrong. "No!"_

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NOW

"Sam!" Dean shouted as the alarms continued to blare their warning. Sam's body shook and arched as his heart rate skyrocketed and he seemed to gasp for air as he fought against the ventilator. "Oh, God, Sammy?" Dean moved towards Sam but even before he had taken a step Sam's body arched again to its highest point and then fell bonelessly to the bed finally still. The heart monitor blared its shrill single tone and Dean thought he was going to fall right there next to Sam's bed.

"Sam!" John yelled as he raced to his son's side quickly checking for a pulse hoping that the screeching machine was wrong but he couldn't find one. "Sam, no!" He quickly ran to the door and threw it open. "Help! We need some help in here!" He could see nurses scrambling and he turned back to the room trying to figure out what to do next. _Oh, God, Sam? _"Dean."

Dean seemed rooted to the spot too shocked to even process what was happening.

"Dean!" John came up and grabbed his eldest's by the shoulders and spun him towards him. "Dean, snap out of it!"

"Dad?" It came out little more than a whisper and John could see the devastation in Dean's expressive eyes.

The door burst open and the room began to fill with people as the medical staff hurried to save Sam. "Code blue! Start CPR, get the paddles charged."

In the flurry of motion both John and Dean were swept aside. John, still holding Dean's shoulders, guided them out of the way and towards the corner of the room.

A nurse finally noticed them and started to usher them towards the door. "I'm sorry, but you can't be in here," the nurse said as she gently pushed them towards the door.

"But my brother," Dean mumbled.

"He's in good hands. Please, just let-"

The constant shrieking of the heart monitor quickly stopped and then there was one lone beep.

The nurse turned back to the controlled chaos surrounding Sam's bed with a quizzical look before there was another beep.

"We've got a heartbeat?" one of the other nurses said almost as if she wasn't sure what it might be.

_Beep………..beep……..beep……beep…beep_

The monitor continued its beeps showing a continuous rhythm. "Regular rhythm. Heartbeat is holding steady."

"Blood pressure is almost back to normal," another nurse said in almost awe.

John frowned in confusion as the reports on Sam's vitals continued to come in. All of them better than the last until finally…

"I've got spontaneous breath sounds," the nurse who had been bagging Sam said with slightly widened eyes. "He's actually breathing on his own."

Dean felt like his legs were made out of Jell-O as he listened to the nurses' chatter through what seemed like a fog. Everything seemed hazy and he wasn't quite sure what they were saying until John took a step forward and that one step seemed to break the spell that had fallen over Dean. "Sam?" he said softly.

John turned back to look at Dean and his eldest was still staring at his youngest and then finally tore his eyes away to look at his father. "Dad?"

John just shook his head at Dean's unasked question and then turned back to look at Sam. "I don't…I don't know, Dean."

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It had been over an hour since the doctors had kicked them out of Sam's room and Dean was pacing the waiting room like a caged tiger. He absently rubbed at his sore arm as he glanced towards Sam's room for like the billionth time and hoped once again that someone would come and tell them _something_ about Sam. But so far none had come.

"Dean for the love of God will you sit down?" his Dad growled and Dean just ground his teeth together before going to sit down next to him.

When he was finally seated John gave a slight sigh of relief. He knew how anxious Dean was to hear what was happening with his little brother but he wasn't doing anybody any good pacing that way. He sighed again and hung his head before rubbing his hand across the back of his neck and winced slightly as the tense muscles twanged slightly under his kneading fingers. He then scrubbed his hand across his face feeling the three day old growth and slightly wishing he had a razor. But for right now, his main focus was his sons. As both Winchester's sat next to each other, he noticed Dean rubbing at his sore hand again and leaned back to get a better look at his oldest. "Your hand still hurt?"

Dean's hand stilled and he pulled it away with a deliberate motion. "It's okay," he mumbled.

"Uh-huh," John murmured as he continued to stare at Dean. "Maybe you should get it looked at?"

Dean turned wide eyes towards him. "No, I'm fine. I just…" He hung his head slightly lowering his eyes to the floor. "I just want to know how Sam is."

"Yeah," John said softly. Both men sat in silence for at least another thirty minutes before John finally gave out a frustrated noise. "Dean, please."

Dean continued to stare at the door as if he hadn't heard his father and his foot continued to bounce showing how nervous he was.

"Dean? Dean!"

Dean finally started and looked at his father. "What?"

John just looked at him for a moment before getting up. "That's it."

Dean just stared at him as he walked over to the nurses' desk and spoke quietly with the nurse there. They both looked back over at him and he suddenly got a bad feeling about all of this. The nurse nodded and picked up her phone before John walked back over to him. "What was that about?" Dean asked afraid of what the answer might be.

"I told her that you had fallen earlier this evening and asked her to get someone to look at your hand," John said.

"What? Dad, I'm fine," Dean started to protest as he glanced over at the nurses' desk anxiously.

"No…you're not. You've been rubbing at that arm since we got carted out here." He nodded towards the offending arm. "And I bet by now you can't even bend that wrist can you?"

Dean looked down at his arm sheepishly and tried to bend the swollen joint. "It's not so bad," he said nonchalantly. "Besides, I don't want to leave without knowing how Sam is."

A nurse came into the waiting room. "Dean Jackson?"

Dean looked at her with slightly scared eyes and then back at his father. "Dad, please."

"Dean, just…please…go have it looked at. I promise to come and find you if I hear anything. Now, go." John could see Dean's hesitation to leave and decided to head it off. "Besides, what do you think Sam would say if he wakes up and finds out you refused treatment because of him?"

Dean just stared at him for a moment longer before finally nodding. Smiling slightly at the nurse, he got up and followed her back through the double doors and John let go a little sigh of relief.

_One down, one to go._

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It had been almost another hour since Dean had disappeared through the waiting room doors, and now _John_ was starting to feel restless. _What the _hell_ is taking so long?_

He found himself tapping his foot and he gave a slight growl of frustration before getting up not able to sit still any longer and started to pace.

Another hour went by and by then he had checked out all the old magazines at least twice, the pamphlets about different medical illnesses at least once, and had studied every picture on the walls he didn't know how many times. Hell, he thought, he could probably close his eyes and describe every little detail in the room from memory by now.

As he finished another circuit of the small waiting room, he decided enough was enough and stocked towards the nurse sitting behind the glass partition. "Excuse me, can you try and find out how my sons are doing?"

"What are their names?" she asked sweetly and John had to grit his teeth from yelling at her.

"Dean and Sam Jackson," he said with as much calm as he could muster. _Easy, John, don't fly off the handle quite yet._

"Just a moment," she said and picked up the phone.

John sat there tapping his fingers on the counter and tried not to look too annoyed. _Just a few more minutes. That's all._

The nurse was on the phone for a while before finally turning back to John. "Dean is almost done he should be out soon. As for Sam, I don't have any news yet. Sorry. I'll see if I can have his doctor come out and talk to you."

John just clenched his jaw slightly and tried not to sigh too loud. "Okay, thank you," he managed to grind out before going back to his chair.

He hated waiting, especially when it was to find out how one of his sons was doing, let alone _both_ of them. He knew the waiting time in hospitals was bad but it shouldn't take _this _long. He hadn't thought that Dean's wrist had been that bad. Probably just a sprain from where Sam had twisted it, but maybe he was wrong.

He put his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together before him worrying at his wedding ring as he waited. He knew that this whole situation was his fault. If he hadn't went to Lillian in the first place, she would have never had known about Sam. But he had thought that the problem had been neutralized when he had taken out Lillian. He had even gone to Stanford to make sure Sam was okay after everything had calmed down. And yet somehow, she had found some way. And now, his mistake might cost Sam his life.

He still couldn't get the image of his son dying right in front of him out of his mind. He closed his eyes not wanting to dwell on those thought anymore. He rubbed a hand across his face once before pulling the notebook that Sam had written in out of his coat pocket. He hadn't even realized he had grabbed it before everything went sideways until the nurses had pushed them out the door and they were standing in the waiting room hoping for news on the youngest member of their family. Now he studied the words Sam had written trying to figure out their meaning, he looked at Sam's writing and still felt a slight chill at the memory of how Sam had looked when he had written them. Eyes wide but unseeing and the tremors that had shook his body towards the end.

Shaking off the memory he studied the words again. "Funky town, Christi, Spoon bender, Hilts," he mumbled to himself as a frown settled across his face. He tried to figure out the connection between each word. _Possibly an anagram or a code? But what kind of code? _The more and more he tried to figure out what they might mean, the more he realized he would need Dean's help to interpret it. He instinctively knew that the message had been meant for Dean and that Dean alone would know what it meant.

He gave a slight snort of laughter and shook his head at that thought. When it came to Sam, John had always needed Dean to interpret. He was never able to understand his youngest and yet Dean could read Sam like he was an open book. With everything that those two boys had gone through, they had developed their own special language and could almost tell when something was wrong with the other. Sometimes he had marveled at how with just a few gestures his two sons could communicate so much. In some ways it made him almost jealous of that close bond, but he also knew that he had instilled and encouraged that bond by how he had raised them. He may be their father, but John knew without a doubt that the real person to raise them had been Dean.

"Dad?"

John's head snapped up at his son's soft reply and he was out of his chair in a second. "Dean, are you okay?"

Dean walked towards him a little hesitantly and John noticed the splint on his son's arm. He also noticed the slightly glazed look of Dean's eyes and his eyes trailed to nurse that had followed Dean out. "How is he?" he asked her without any preamble as he turned to study Dean more acutely.

"He's fine," she said and John felt his shoulders loosen just a little. "He just sprained his wrist really good. He'll need to keep the brace on it until it's healed. We also gave him some pills to help with the pain." She handed him a small bottle and gave him a few more instructions on how to treat the sprain and what to expect but John just nodded already knowing all the procedures for a sprained wrist.

"Thank you," he said with a slight smile and then turned back to Dean.

Dean had sat down in his chair with a slightly dazed look on his face, but as John studied his oldest son he could also see the worry there too. "How's Sam?"

John just grimaced and sat down next to him. "I don't know yet. Nobody's come out yet to talk to me." He looked at Dean and saw his expression fall slightly at the news. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Dean just looked at him and gave a slightly dopey smile. "Sure, no problem here, they gave me the good stuff." He motioned towards the bottle John was holding and then his smile slipped from his face as he noticed the small notebook in John's hands. "Could you figure out what he wrote?"

John blinked at him once in confusion and then looked down at the notebook as if noticing it for the first time. "Oh, uh…no, not yet. I think he probably meant it for you." He passed the notebook over to Dean and Dean hesitated only a moment before taking it in his good hand.

John watched as Dean studied the words and watched the flash of emotions cross his eldest's face as he flipped through the pages. "Do you know what it means?" he finally asked after a while.

Dean glanced up at him and then back to the paper. "Yeah, but…it doesn't make any sense." Dean studied the four words repeated over and over again noticing how they started off rather neat and the further they went, the sloppier they became until the last few words were basically scribbles. He noticed the last three words were different from the others and he frowned in concentration as he tried to figure out what they said.

"What is it?" John asked noticing his son's expression.

"Well, uh," Dean cleared his throat trying not to get overwhelmed by his emotions. He couldn't break down. Not now at least. _Maybe_ later. First, he had to save Sammy. "Okay, 'funkytown' is our reference for being in danger," he explained nonchalantly and John just nodded.

"Yeah, I remember that, and 'christo' is obviously a reference to demons. Plus the fact that when I said it to Sam he seemed to snap out of it for just a moment there," John said.

"Yeah," Dean said softly wishing that he could erase that image from his mind. He shook himself slightly. "But his eyes didn't turn black like a regular demon though."

John just nodded also puzzled by that thought Not that he wasn't relieved by that thought but... "What does the rest of it mean?"

"Well, 'spoonbender' is a reference to psychics. After that time in Michigan, I kidded him about trying to bend spoons," Dean smiled slightly before trying to swallow the lump in his throat from the memory.

"What happened in Michigan?" John asked with a slightly bewildered look on his face.

Dean looked at his father and if John hadn't known his son so well he would've missed the flash of surprise that crossed his face. "He, uh…it's a long story." He looked back at the notebook and tried to ignore his Dad's stare, knowing that sooner or later he would have to explain that comment but still not quite sure how to tell his dad that Sam had moved a frickin' bookcase with his mind because he had thought Dean was going to die.

"The, uh…final word," he hesitated slightly and glanced up at his Dad trying to judge his reaction to his not so subtle brush off and saw his him frowning slightly. "The final word, 'Hiltz', is a reference to _The Great Escape_."

John frowned slightly in confusion before the pieces fell together. "Ah, Steve McQueen's character. So all together they say what?"

"Uh, let's see…'danger', 'demon', 'psychic', 'escape'?" Dean looked up at his father to see the same confused look he knew he was wearing.

"Family for Sam Jackson?"

Both Winchester men glanced up to see Sam's doctor standing in the doorway. In one quick movement they were both standing before the doctor.

"How's Sam? Is he going to be okay? What happened?" Dean asked first wanting to get to the point.

"Whoa, calm down," the doctor said holding up his hands. "Sam is doing fine. In fact he's doing great. I don't quite understand how, but it seems that he's made almost a full recovery."

"So he's going to be okay?" John asked in astonishment.

The doctor smiled and nodded his head. "Yes, Sam is going to be fine. I apologize for taking so long, but we needed to run some tests. It seems whatever was causing his body to shut down has somehow just…disappeared. Now granted, he's not completely out of the woods, but his blood work looks good, his heart rate is normal, and he's actually breathing on his own. We've already removed the ventilator and we've just got him on some oxygen so his body doesn't have to work so hard. After everything he's been through, he's definitely going to need some time to recuperate. But all I got to say is that he must have one hell of a guardian angel on his side."

"So he's okay? He's going to make it?" Dean asked just to make sure. "What about his fever?"

Here the doctor frowned slightly. "Yes, that…well, it's still…a little high; but definitely better than it was. We'll keep him on some I.V. antibiotics and hopefully it will continue to go down. Until then we'll be keeping him here under close observation and hopefully in a couple days if everything goes well he might be able to go home."

Both Dean and John sighed in relief at that and John grabbed Dean's shoulder giving it a slight squeeze. "Thanks, doc," he said as a genuine smile crossed his lips. "Can we go see him?"

"Sure, he's still in the same room as before. They're just bringing him back from the latest round of tests. Give us a few more minutes and then I'll have the nurse come and get you when he's ready."

Dean just nodded and then watched the doctor disappear. They waited a little bit longer and finally the nurse came to get them. As they walked towards Sam's room, the nurse chattered on about Sam's recovery and that it was a miracle, but to Dean it just sounded like blah, blah, blah. The closer they got to Sam's door, the more he felt like he might throw up. His heart was beating so fast he thought it might just jump out of his throat and without knowing why he began to slow down. He tried to calm his nerves not knowing exactly why he was so nervous and when they finally got to the door he hesitated.

John just looked at Dean and waited patiently for Dean to pull himself together again. He knew that Dean was probably just as nervous as he was about what they might find behind that door and didn't try to push him any faster than he wanted to go. Dean took a steadying breath and gave a quick nod before pushing the door open.

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A/N: Okay everyone. There's the new chapter. Hope it was worth the really long wait for. Let me know what you think by sending me a review. Come on. You know you want to. (_I will not beg. I will not beg. I will not…) _

A/N2: Also, I've posted a poll on my profile page asking, "How do you think Dean will come back from Hell?" So please go to my profile page and let me know what you think. Until next time.


	10. Chapter 10

JESS

Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Hello? Anybody still out there? Hello? Yeah, I know you all are probably saying about time on the update. Sorry about that. Life, you know?

Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood". But other than that, I hope I got things right.

A/N2: A few reminders. Lillian is the psychic/witch John went to for help that eventually ended up turning evil after getting a taste for stealing psychic's powers for her own and John killed her to stop her from hurting anyone else. Also, last chapter Dean and John discussed what Sam had written while still unconscious: funky town, christo, spoon bender, Hiltz. Okay…hopefully that will jog your memories a little bit.

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"Family of Sam Jackson?"

Dean and John both shot to their feet and then shuffled forward with a nervous feeling in their stomachs.

"Please, follow me," the nurse said and turned towards the double doors. As they walked down the hall, she updated them on Sam's condition. He was breathing on his own, his vitals were stable, he still had a slight fever, but it was still a miracle that he had pulled through.

But to Dean it was just static compared the tympani beat of his own heart that seemed to drown out everything else. The only thing that mattered at the moment was seeing Sammy and until then he would just go along on autopilot letting his mind wander over what all had happened so far. He couldn't help but feel a little anxious to see if Sam was really going to be okay and if he would remember what happened or if he was even aware of his fight against Lillian.

His mind kept coming back to what Sam had written and he wondered what Sam had meant by those few cryptic words. The most obvious was that Sam was in trouble and he was trying to escape. But what if it wasn't Sam? Of course, what he had written wouldn't have made a bit of sense to anyone else besides Dean, but who was to say something supernatural couldn't have snatched it from his brother's head while he was fighting for his life.

He knew it was crazy to think the worst of this. Hell, he should have been jumping for joy that Sammy was going to make it. But then why did he have this gut feeling that something was still wrong? With the Winchester luck this just seemed too…weird.

Suddenly, he felt his Dad's hand on his shoulder and he stopped suddenly in confusion before realizing they were standing in front of Sam's room.

"You okay?" his Dad asked and Dean just looked at him for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean finally managed and tried to give the nurse and his Dad a small smile before his eyes traveled to Sam's door.

The nurse gave a small smile of understanding in return and then turned back to address John again. "He's still sleeping, but we're pretty confident now that his fever has broken that he should wake up before too long. Do realize, however, he needs to rest so that his body can heal. The more he sleeps the better off he'll be. Just be patient and talk to him if you want. If you need anything just let me know."

John smiled at her and gave a slight nod of thanks before she turned to leave. Dean and John both stood outside the door not quite sure what to do both apprehensive to step into the room. They knew that there was no reason to be nervous but bother Winchesters couldn't help but worry about what they might find once they opened that door. John was the one to finally take a deep breath and push open the door.

As the door slid open and Sam's sleeping form came into view John suddenly released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Sam lay there peacefully, just a few machines surrounding the bed and thankfully the ventilator had been removed leaving just an oxygen mask to help Sam breathe a little easier. Seeing his son now, John would never have imagined that only a few hours ago he was in serious danger of losing his youngest.

John walked to his son's side and could feel the tightness in his shoulders lessen a little the longer he looked at him. He finally reached a hand out and laid it on Sam's forehead and smiled slightly as he felt the clammy coolness of Sam's skin. He was still a little warm, but it was definitely an improvement from before.

"Hey, Sam," he said softly as a small smile touched his lips. He then looked up expecting to see Dean standing on the other side and then frowned as he turned back towards the door.

There stood Dean looking hesitant and such like the young boy he had thought was long gone. He could be so fierce and confident when he was on the hunt, but now John could see Dean's vulnerability and doubt about how Sam was doing. He felt a twinge of sadness at the fact that Dean had to ever wonder about his family's safety and wished to everything that was holy that he could give that innocence back to his sons.

"Dean," he finally said and Dean's eyes drifted towards his for a moment before going back to Sam's still form. John turned back to Sam for a moment more and carded his fingers through Sam's damp bangs brushing off of his sweaty forehead. Leaning forward slightly he whispered in Sam's ear, "I'll be back." He then straightened and turned back to Dean.

Dean's wide, expressive eyes fixed on John's in a silent question and John just smiled slightly. "I'm gonna go get us some coffee." Dean nodded slightly after a moment and John gently squeezed his shoulder before heading for the door leaving the two brothers alone once again.

Dean just stood there for a moment, the only sounds in the room that of the heart monitor beeping and the slight hiss of the oxygen mask that covered Sam's face. Finally, Dean moved towards the bed and wordlessly pulled the chair closer to the bed. He laced his fingers together hesitantly before pulling them apart and rubbing them up and down his pants legs before shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Finally, finding a little shred of courage left in his body, he cleared his throat and then tried to speak.

"Um, hi," he finally managed to get out and then rolled his eyes at the stupidity of that. _Of all the things I've wanted to say to him that's what I come up with?! _ "You know if you stay asleep much longer, you won't be able to sleep for a week once you wake up." Dean tried for a smile but it didn't quite stick and he found himself trying to swallow down the sudden lump in his throat.

"Of course, I guess that wouldn't be so bad. You know?" He smiled sadly and then looked down at his hands trying to collect himself a little. "When we were little...you were _always_ getting sick. It seemed like every time I turned around…you were coming down with _something_. Of course the way we live, who could blame you for having a shitty immune system." Dean gave a humorless chuckle and then frowned slightly as he thought of something. "Maybe that's why you eat all that rabbit food. Trying to make up for something you lack huh?" Dean looked up at his little brother's peaceful face and something in his chest seemed to tighten at the sight.

"Look, I know that you don't have many reasons to wake up right now and get better but…" Dean's voice caught slightly and he had to swallow again to keep from being choked up. "You just gotta wake up, Sammy… please." Dean reached out with his good hand and took Sam's in his own. "Please…just wake up. I don't know…if you've won against what that bitch Lillian did to you or if you're still fighting inside that freaky head of yours, but you just…"

A tear fell silently from Dean's face and landed on the blanket by Sam's hand before Dean could stop it and his lip quivered slightly as he fought against his emotions. Suddenly a wave of anger ran through him at the unfairness of the situation and his features hardened again. "You just keep fighting, Sam. I know you're stronger than her and you can _beat_ this. I _know_ it. You're the strongest person I know. I mean, you followed your _dream_. Went to college and you didn't give a _damn_ that Dad didn't want you to go. I know you always ask me why I follow his every rule, but the truth is that I don't think I could make it on my own… But you could. You were always so stubborn and determined to have things your way. So _don't_ you give up now, you hear me? Don't give up."

Dean squeezed Sam's lifeless hand a little tighter and then hung his head as a tidal wave of emotion washed over him. "I can't lose you again. Not now after I just got you back," he choked out. "Sam." He leaned his head against Sam's arm and finally let himself go.

As his walls cracked and a strangled sob escaped unbidden followed by a flood of tears as he begged with his unconscious brother to just stay, Dean didn't care at the moment who saw him. All he wanted was his brother.

After a while the tears subsided to nothing more than a few quiet sniffles, and Dean sat there feeling completely drained. His head drooped heavily on the edge of the bed as he fought against sleep and he watched dazedly as he rubbed his thumb along Sam's hand like he used to when Sam was a kid and would wake up with nightmares. The motion being just as soothing for his brother as it was for Dean.

Soon, his eyes began to slowly close as he felt himself being lulled by the repetitive motion. Finally, he blinked heavy lids one last time before they slipped closed and stayed that way. His breathing evened out as he drifted off and soon he was fast asleep.

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John slipped silently back into the room holding two cups of coffee and gently set them down on the table by the bed. He had come back earlier and had heard Dean's sobs through the door and decided to give him a little more privacy.

When he finally turned to look at his two sons he couldn't help but smile. Dean was bent over in his chair with his head resting against Sam's arm on the bed with one hand intertwined with his brother's while the other reached up slightly towards Sam's head gently brushing the edges of his shaggy hair.

John quickly found a spare blanket and draped it over Dean's back. Dean began to stir slightly and John froze.

Dean mumbled something in his sleep and shifted slightly again.

"Go back to sleep, Dean. I'll keep watch for now," he whispered.

Dean mumbled something again and tightened his grip on Sam's hand slightly before settling back into sleep.

John smiled slightly and then silently moved the other chair over to where he could watch both of his boys. He settled down into the chair slumping slightly to make it a little more comfortable and then crossed his arms across his chest. He gave a heavy sigh and then blinked his tired eyes. It had been a _long_ day.

As he watched the boys, his eyelids began to droop and soon he was asleep as well.

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"Sam? Sam! Earth to Sam, come in Sam."

Sam jumped slightly at the hand waving in front of his face and then gave a sheepish grin as he saw who it was. "Sorry, guess I was just spacing."

Jess just smiled slightly and sat down next to him on the bench. "Yeah, right. Whatcha thinkin' about?"

Sam gave a small smile and let his eyes drift away for a second. "Nothing."

Jess gave a snort. "Oh, no, you don't. I know when you've got something on your mind, and the 1000 yard stare doesn't help your case at all. You do know that right?"

Sam blushed slightly knowing that he was busted.

"So…talk." Jess turned slightly towards Sam and gave him her full attention.

Sam just shook his head and looked down at the book he was holding. "It's nothing really," he said and he couldn't help the slightly sad tinge to his voice.

Jess's smile faded at his tone and she laced her fingers with Sam's. "You're thinking about your family again aren't you?" she asked quietly and Sam just nodded. "Have you heard from them?"

Sam's gave a slightly sardonic smirk. "Not really." _Unless you count my Dad spying on us this morning, then…no._

"Oh, Sam, I'm sorry."

Sam gave her a slight smile and squeezed her hand a little tighter. "That's okay. I've got you."

Jess gave him a sad smile and her eyes welled slightly with emotion. She then leaned forward slowly and kissed him gently on the lips before tilting her forehead against his for a moment.

Sam closed his eyes and just relished in her closeness and the comfort that he got from that.

"Come on," Jess said quietly breaking the peace of the moment as she leaned back. "We better get going. We don't want you to be late for your own birthday party," Jess said with an excited smile as she got up and Sam couldn't help but laugh a little at her excitement.

"Okay. Just let me pack my stuff up." He quickly packed his books and stood.

"Ready?" Jess asked holding her hand out for him to take.

Sam hesitated for a second suddenly feeling like he was forgetting to do something but for the life of him couldn't remember what it was. "Yeah, I'm ready," he said with a smile as he laced his fingers with Jess's and they strolled down the sidewalk towards their apartment.

As they walked through the open grounds they talked and laughed about what had gone on with their days and enjoyed just being together. Neither of them seeing the figure that watched them from the shadows as they disappeared down the sidewalk.

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Dean shifted slightly in his sleep and then started to settle again when he felt something move near his hand. He drifted a little closer towards consciousness as his fuzzy mind tried to process what the movement was when it happened again.

Finally, the movement caught and he sprang to wide awake so quickly the blanket flew from his shoulders as he sat up straight in his seat. He quickly blinked his eyes trying to get the fuzzy world to come into focus and tried to get his sluggish brain to kick into gear. Finally, shapes started to make sense again and he stared down at his brother who was starting to move slightly. Eyebrows scrunching up in confusion, Sam was moving his head back and forth slightly.

"Dean?" his Dad's gravelly voice came from behind him and Dean slightly turned towards him without taking his eyes off of his brother. "Dean, what is it?" John asked again not entirely sure if his eldest had heard him the first time.

"I'm not…" Dean trailed off unsure watching Sam's still form not sure if he'd really seen Sam move or if he had just dreamed it until it happened again.

Sam's head move minutely to the side and his fingers twitched ever so slightly inside Dean's grip.

Dean felt his heart soar and he liked his lips in anticipation. "Sammy?"

His brother moved again and Dean stood up to lean over the bed slightly.

"Come on, Sammy. Nap time's over, Sleeping Beauty, time to open those big eyes of yours."

Sam groaned slightly and Dean could see his eyelids flutter slightly.

"Come on, Sam. Open your eyes," Dean said hoping that Sam would respond to his voice.

"Come on, son. Open your eyes," John finally said taking Sam's other hand in his own and brushing his fingers over Sam's forehead.

Sam seemed to struggle to open his eyes, his forehead creasing with the effort and his head jerking back and forth slightly.

"Sam, wake up. Right now," John finally barked out hoping that his son would still obey his order and after a few more moments struggle, they were rewarded with two tiny slits of hazel.

"Hey there, Sasquatch, about time you woke up."

The eyes drifted closed again but then struggled to reopen just as quickly. Sam blinked several times to try and make the black blob before him come into focus and finally after a few more blinks, Dean's face came into focus and he noticed the sappy grin plastered on his face.

"De-" He tried to talk and found his throat was dry and scratchy.

"Hey, here. You thirsty?" Dean quickly grabbed the glass of water next to the bed and helped Sam take a few sips.

After managing just a few sips, Sam let his head fall back on the pillow and closed his eyes against the wave of exhaustion that little movement had caused.

"Better?" Dean asked and Sam managed a small nod.

"Where?" It came out no more than a whisper but Dean knew what he was saying.

"You're in a hospital."

Sam just raised an eyebrow and Dean could almost hear his saying, _Duh_. "You got pretty sick and didn't know what else to do. You scared the crap out of me," Dean finally got out and got a surprised blink in response. "And for your information, you better not do it again. You hear me, Samantha?"

Sam just smiled slightly.

"Hey, look who's here?" Dean said with a nod towards his father.

Sam frowned slightly and moved slowly to look the other way. What he saw brought a tired smile to his face. "Dad," he whispered again.

"Hey there, Sam," John said. "Nice to have you back."

Sam just closed his eyes again and made a sort of humming noise in his throat. "mmmm…tired," he managed to mumble as consciousness started to slip from him again.

John just smiled slightly and traded a knowing smile with Dean. "Yeah, we kinda figured that. Go back to sleep, Sam. We can talk later."

"-kay," Sam said more on a breath than anything and then slipped back into sleep, his breath evening out and deepening once again.

Dean watched his brother fall back asleep and couldn't understand the uneasy feeling in his stomach. Sam was okay. He should be relieved, but something…

He couldn't seem to put his finger on it.

John let out a heavy sigh as he watched Sam sleep. His son was going to be okay. But of course there were still unanswered questions. Like what had happened with Lillian and sooner or later Sam would have to answer some of those questions. But not now.

John then looked up at Dean and frowned slightly in concern. He looked like shit with pale skin and dark circles under his eyes and if John didn't know better he would have sworn that Dean looked smaller than he did before. Come to think of it he wasn't real sure that Dean had really slept or ate since he had arrived and he knew that that wasn't a good thing.

Now that Sam was out of the woods for the moment he would have to switch his worry to his eldest.

With that thought he got up and grabbed his coat. "Come on."

Dean looked up at him in surprise and then frowned. "What?" he asked clearly confused.

"Come on. Let's go see if we can get something to eat down in the cafeteria and then _you_…are going to a motel and getting at least six hours of sleep."

Dean's frown deepened as he tried to process what his Dad had said before his eyebrows shot towards the roof. "What? No…no, I'm not leaving him." Dean shot to his feet and moved closer to Sam's bed as he shook his head.

"Dean, come on," John tried again stepping towards Dean with a hand reaching out.

"No! Dad, I can't. Not now. Just…please?"

John stood there looking at Dead his hand still reaching out and tried not to compare him to a kid throwing a fit because he has to leave the playground. He knew that Dean wouldn't leave Sam for anything. Not after what happened last time, but he also knew that this was for the best. "Dean, this isn't a request," John said firmly and dropped his hand as he squared his shoulders. "Now, you _need_ to rest to let that wrist heal; and I know that you haven't eaten hardly anything since they brought Sam in."

Dean scowled slightly and dropped his eyes to his brother's sleeping form.

"Don't worry. I won't let Sam out of my sight until you get back here. I promise."

Dean bit his lip slightly and then nodded reluctantly. "Okay, but if anything happens. If there's even the _smallest_ bit of change, you'll call me right?" He pinned his father with a stern look and waited until he nodded.

"Don't worry, you'll be my first call," John promised and then motioned for Dean to head towards the door.

Dean hesitated for a moment and then turned towards Sam and ran his hand through his brother's hair. "Hey, kiddo, I've gotta go for a little while but Dad will be here until I get back. So don't do anything I wouldn't do okay?"

John swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched how gentle Dean was with Sam as he smoothed back his little brother's hair and then adjusted Sam's blanket a little before finally picking up his jacket and moving towards the door.

At least he had done that little bit right with his boys.

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As the door closed behind the two eldest Winchesters, an almost eerie silence fell across the room.

The only occupant of the room continued to sleep for a little while longer until finally he started to open his eyes. He blinked sleepily several times looking around the room to see if his father or brother were around and finally realized that they were gone.

He then slowly lifted his arm and looked at it as if seeing it for the first time. He then looked out at the room and his eyes finally landed on one of the empty chairs in the room. He held out his shaking hand and concentrated on the chair squinting slightly as he tried to focus.

The chair shook slightly before finally moving a few inches across the floor.

Sam let his arm fall back to the bed panting slightly from that little test and smiled tiredly. "Excellent," he whispered softly. "I knew you were a wise choice, Sam."

He blinked sleepily several times feeling completely drained. Lillian/Sam smiled inwardly as she felt the fatigue in the body she now had control of and knew that all of her hard work had finally paid off. "I think," she said with exhaustion evident in Sam's voice. "I'm going to enjoy…using this body…for a while."

She finally fell asleep with a slight smile on her face and felt contented with what she had accomplished so far. At last, she had succeeded in her plans.

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_A/N: Well, there it is. I hope it was worth the wait. Let me know by pushing that little blue button and sending me your thoughts. All thoughts are accepted. Good or bad. Now I'm off to come up with the ending to one of my other stories, "You Want Answers?" Until next time…hopefully sooner than later._


	11. Chapter 11

JESS 11

Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Hello? Anybody still out there? Hello? Yeah, I know you all are probably saying, "About freaking time," on the update. So I'll just say sorry x infinity.

Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood". But other than that, I hope I got things right.

A/N2: A reminder of what happened before. Lillian—the psychic/witch that ended up turning evil after getting a taste for stealing psychic's powers for her own before John killed her—has possessed Sam.

A/N3: Okay. To reduce confusion, when Sam is with Dean and John, Lillian is in control and I might refer to him as either Sam or Lillian. When he's with Jess, it's just Sam.

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"Sam? What'd you do fall in? Hurry up."

Sam hung his head and sighed heavily. "I'll be out in a minute, Dean." Sam a.k.a Lillian glared at the door for a second more before turning her gaze back to the mirror. Her eyes perused the length of Sam's body in the mirror once again admiring just how fine it was. The long, lean muscle that rippled beneath the smooth, tanned skin and chiseled abs make the form reflected in the mirror look like a roman god. Glistening beads of water left over from the shower clung to the chiseled planes and stirred a feeling of desire within her that she hadn't known in years.

"And to think he usually hides all this under layers of clothes," she mumbled shaking her head in regret before starting to get dressed. It had been almost a week since she had taken over Sam's body in the hospital and she was still trying to adjust to the differences.

For one, being so freaking _tall._

The first time she had tried sitting down, she'd thought she'd missed the chair and almost made a fool of herself, but since then she had been taking time to explore Sam's strengths and weaknesses both physically and mentally to make sure that she could pull being 'Sam' off. And so far, it seemed to be working.

At least John wasn't suspicious.

Dean on the other hand? She wasn't too sure about him. She had known before that he was the wild card in the scheme just because he spent so much time with Sam, but the payoffs kind of offset the dangers of him finding out.

"Sam?"

Lillian huffed out a frustrated sigh and rolled her eyes before opening the door.

Dean was poised to knock again and had to physically stop himself from knocking on Sam's chest as the door opened before him. "What took you so long?" he almost growled searching Sam's face and then looking into the bathroom behind him.

"I just took a shower, Dean. I wasn't in there _that_ long." Sam pushed passed Dean and he followed his progress across the room with careful eyes.

"Yeah, right. I know some girls that take less time to get ready. What? You couldn't get your hair to fall just so there princess?" Dean said with a slight smirk.

Sam stopped putting his clothes away and gave Dean a withering look. "Bite me."

Dean held his hands up in surrender and walked towards his own duffel. "Well aren't we pissy today? Come on, hurry up. Dad called and we need to meet him down at the diner in ten."

"Yeah, whatever," Sam grumbled and Dean stopped his packing his hackles rising.

"Hey what's your problem, man?"

Sam looked up from his bag with a fairly innocent look. "What?"

"Oh, don't give me that. Ever since we left the hospital you've been arguing about everything. You don't want to hunt. You can't even _look _at Dad without thinking the exact opposite of him. It's like…"

Sam stood up from his packing and faced his brother with arms crossed. "It's like what?"

Dean ground his teeth together for a moment before turning away back to packing his bag. "Nothing."

Sam's blood boiled at the brush off. "No, I wanna know. It's like what, _Dean_?"

Dean threw his bag down and turned back to Sam with angry eyes. "It's like you're frickin' eighteen again and I'm the one stuck in the middle between you and dad playing peace maker." He motioned towards Sam roughly before turning away not wanting to deal with this again. He'd had enough of it then.

"Who asked you too? I don't understand how you can follow him so blindly, Dean. If the man said jump, you'd say how high."

"That is not true, Sam," Dean growled getting angrier by the moment.

"No, you're right. You'd say, 'How high, _sir_'."

Dean stepped right up to Sam, his fists clenching and unclenching as he shot daggers at Sam with his eyes just daring him to say something else.

Sam glared back just as hard so ready to take a swing at the irritating man.

Dean shifted slightly and then stepped away slightly. "I'm gonna forget you just said that," he said with deadly calm. "Considering just a few days ago you were _sick_. Now finish getting packed. I'll meet you out in the car." Dean then turned and picked up his bag and stormed towards the door making sure to slam it behind him. _God!_

Lillian just stood there watching as Dean stormed away and couldn't help but smile slightly. Nothing like a little diversion to keep the enemy guessing. She so loved seeing how far she could pushing him before he snapped.

ooooooooooo

Dean stomped out to the Impala shoving the key roughly into the trunk lock and throwing his bag in before heading for the driver's door. He slipped in behind the wheel and shut the door letting his head fall back against the seat with a deep sigh. Banging his head against the seat and clenching the wheel tightly he tried to get his anger under control. Concentrating on the slight ache in his hand and arm from where Sam had grabbed it tried to let that ground him.

He shouldn't have lost his temper like that. He didn't know what it was, but since Sam had woken up in the hospital he had felt on edge. Like he was just waiting for the other shoe to fall, and he wasn't sure _why_.

It wasn't like Sam showed any of the classic signs of being possessed. But something just didn't…feel right.

He heard the door to the motel room open up and glanced up to see Sam coming out.

And there it was again.

As Sam exited the room he didn't even look up and then immediately turned his back to lock the door and Dean knew that was a _big_ no-no in their line of work. He still remembered their dad drilling it into his head as a kid to _always_ be aware of their surroundings.

Sam finished locking the door and turned towards the car. He opened the passenger door and threw his duffel in the back before climbing in banging his knee against the dash and hissing in pain slightly before rubbing the offended appendage.

"You okay?" Dean asked giving Sam a once over noticing the almost permanent scowl on his face anymore.

"Peachy," Sam grumbled before settling back in his seat. "Can we go now? I figured you'd be chomping at the bit to get out of here."

Dean just bit his tongue trying not to say something too scathing and started the car. The throaty thrum of the engine purred to life and he pulled out of the parking space. At this point he was just _wishing_ that something supernatural was wrong. Because if there wasn't he was going to kick Sam's ass.

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"Bye, thanks for coming."

"Hey Jess, thanks for inviting us. We had a great time," Becky said giving Jess a hug before turning to Sam to give him a hug also. "Happy Birthday, Sam."

"Thanks, Becky, and thanks for the gift."

"You're welcome. Now you be good," she said mock-seriously giving Sam a stern look and a pointed finger.

Sam just crossed his heart just as seriously before they all bust up laughing. Finishing their goodbyes, Jess closed the door firmly behind the last guest with a slight grin and a sigh. Before she even turned the lock completely, strong arms engulfed her from behind and she leaned back contentedly into Sam's embrace.

Quickly leaning down, he placed a small kiss on the side of her neck before resting his chin on her shoulder and just reveled in the silent moment between the two of them. "I can't believe you did that," he said quietly next to Jess's ear and could feel her smile.

"Did what?"

"Pulled a surprise party off for me without me even knowing anything about it? And in our own home no less."

Jess's smile just grew as she turned in Sam's arms so she was facing him and she wrapped her arms around his waist. "You didn't think I was _sneaky_ enough?"

Sam just laughed slightly. "No, I didn't. I guess I'll just have to remember that for future reference."

Jess just chuckled slightly before pulling him in for another hug. "Well it wasn't easy. I thought for _sure_ you'd figured it out this morning. But I'm glad you liked it."

"I did." He leaned down to kiss her again this time letting it linger for a moment.

After a moment more Jess smiled slightly and pushed away from Sam and headed back towards the table. "Ugh, I'm exhausted. I never knew trying to keep a secret could be so tiring." She began clearing the dinner plates not noticing the slightly uncomfortable smile Sam gave her.

"Yeah, I know," he mumbled slightly fidgeting slightly with the topic. "But I guess it was worth it. Look at all this stuff." Sam couldn't help but smile as he surveyed his pile of presents. There was a ton. And the best part about it…they were things that he actually wanted.

Granted, he had always cherished the meager gifts that Dean had gotten him over the years. Usually a book that he'd been eyeing for a while or a special pocket knife or trinket, but most of his gifts had been things that had served another purpose in his life of hunting. Or they were things that would get left behind in their nomadic life as being 'unnecessary'.

But looking at these presents, his apartment, and Jess, he knew that these were things that wouldn't be left behind out of necessity. He was done with that life.

"You okay?" Jess asked as she returned from the kitchen and noticed the change in Sam's mood.

He looked up at her again and smiled. "Yeah, I'm great. Just…I can't believe how lucky I am." He pulled Jess to him and she giggled slightly.

"Well, you deserve it."

They kissed again and then stood with their arms wrapped around each other just enjoying the other's company for another long moment.

"Sam?" Jess asked hesitantly before pulling away slightly so she could look him in the eye. "Why are the holidays so important to you?"

Sam just frowned slightly confused by the question.

"I mean…Christmas, Thanksgiving, Birthdays. You always seem so…_happy_ to celebrate them like…you're a kid experiencing them for the first time."

Sam squirmed slightly in Jess's grip and then tried to disentangle himself. "I don't know. I just…"

But Jess wasn't letting go. She moved with him pinning him with her inquisitive gaze and Sam found that he couldn't look into her suddenly sorrowful eyes.

After another moment, Sam finally sighed accepting defeat and looked up at her. "We never really…celebrated those things when I was growing up. So now…I guess it is all kind of new to me."

Jess's gaze had turned confused and sad as he spoke and just blinked a couple of times as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. "Not birthdays…or _Christmas_?" she asked with an almost incredulous sounding voice.

Sam looked away suddenly very uncomfortable with the turn of conversation and moved to pull Jess's hands away again. "We just…it never seemed that important." Finally braking free he stepped back several steps to give himself some space turning his back to her. "Of course, Dean did try to do something every year at first. Usually a present and a cupcake with a candle. Nothing big. But as I got older it just wasn't…" He finally shrugged and tried a carefree smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he turned back to her. "It was just the way we were."

Jess just stood there with a sad look on her face and Sam's smile started to slip slightly and he finally turned away to start cleaning up suddenly needing _something_ to do.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! I shouldn't have told her that. Now she thinks I'm even _more_ of a freak than she did before. Just great, Sam. Way to make an impression._

As he lifted a stack of plates from the table, small hands sliding around his waist stopped him in mid-motion. Standing there with his eyes closed against the emotions rolling through him, he just let Jess hug him from behind not sure what else to do. After a moment, she moved around beside him and turned him towards her. Noticing the stack of plates he still held in his hands, she gently took them from him and set them on the table.

Not sure what she was going to say, Sam just stood there looking into her piercing eyes and swallowed hard.

Putting a hand on the side of his face she smiled softly. "I _like_ that you enjoy celebrating the holidays so much. In fact I think it's cute."

Sam searched her eyes for any sign of pitty but only saw her love showing back at him.

"I'm just sorry that that is the reason why. And if it means celebrating _every_ holiday with a big party just so I can see that big goofy smile on your face?"

With that Sam smiled a half-smile and continued to stare at her.

"Then I guess I'll just have to be a little more social and invite the _whole_ campus for your birthday party next year."

Sam blinked once and then laughed out loud before pulling Jess into a big hug. "Oh, God, I _knew_ there was reason I loved you." He pulled back to give her a kiss and then let it deepen as their hands explored each other's body slipping over shoulders and under hems as their love intensified.

Reluctantly pulling away, Sam looked down at Jess's flushed face slightly breathless at how beautiful she looked and gave her a slightly mischievous look. "You still want to go to bed?"

She just looked up at him with slight confusion that slowly melted into hunger and love in her eyes before she smiled in the same mischievous way. "More than anything."

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Sitting in the far back booth, John was engrossed in the paper he was reading when his sons came in the front door.

Recognizing Sam's voice, he looked up and frowned slightly when he noticed both boys. Dean seemed frustrated but trying not to show it and Sam looked… He wasn't sure what Sam looked like.

Since he had been released from the hospital after his 'miraculous' recovery, Sam had seemed…different. He knew that his son was very vocal in his dislike of the hunt and still remembered some of the fights they'd had right before he left for college and at first had put it towards that and the fact that he hadn't seen his son in almost four years except for that little bit of time back in Chicago.

But this was different.

As the boys came closer, he could see Dean eyeing Sam warily and when they got to the booth they both seemed to stop and look at each other. John kept quiet waiting to see what would happen as both boys communicated with looks until finally Dean rolled his eyes and huffed out a frustrated breath before snagging a chair from the table next to them leaving Sam to sit in the other booth seat.

"Everything okay?" John asked still not quite sure what was going on between the two usually inseparable brothers.

"Fine," Dean said succinctly and Sam mumbled the same before the waitress came to take their orders. Dean took on his usual role of flirting and Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's antics leaving John feeling that at least _something_ was still the same. But after she left, an uncomfortable silence seemed to settle over the table and John shifted slightly trying to figure out what was wrong.

But maybe it was best to leave it be. Let sleeping dogs lie or however that saying went.

"So did you boys get checked out alright?"

Dean looked up from his coffee and nodded. "Yes, sir, no problems there."

John just nodded and then tried to think of something else to say but nothing came to him so he just went back to his paper. Reading the obituaries he studied the little blurbs of death and would make notes on possible supernatural activity before heading back to the front of the paper to read the headlines.

Sam and Dean both seemed engrossed with their coffee not finding anything to talk about and everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when their food finally came.

As he ate, John went over the last few days trying to figure out what could have caused such a rift between the boys but couldn't really find anything out of the ordinary. Of course, Dean had hovered like a mother hen over Sam after he had finally woken up. Fussing and asking questions of what Sam might remember about when he was sick and if there was anything to connect Lillian to this, but so far Sam had not come up with anything saying that it was all pretty much a blur.

And for some reason this didn't seem right.

After all, John had been pretty sure that after what Dean had told him about Sam's illness and his run in with Lillian before he'd killed her that this was probably all connected.

But of course he had been wrong before.

"So do you boys have any idea where you want to go from here?"

Dean and Sam both looked up and then glanced at each other before shaking their heads. "No, sir, we hadn't really discussed it. Do you have any possibles?"

John looked down at his plate for a moment and then took a sip of coffee before answering. "Not really. I've got a possible lead on the Demon though."

"So you're leaving," Sam said without looking up from his food stopping both John and Dean. Putting his fork down, Sam sat back in the booth and crossed his arms. "Right?" he asked with obvious accusation and John just stared at him unable to deny the accusation.

"You know well enough that this is something that needs to be looked into."

Sam just huffed out a little laugh and turned away shaking his head. "Right. Because it couldn't _possibly_ be like the other hundred times you thought you had a lead on the Demon," Sam said bitterly while silently Lillian was thinking this was perfect.

"Sam," Dean started but Sam cut him off.

"No, Dean. It's always been like this. We both know the hunt is more important to him."

"That's not true," John said his voice going cold as his anger flared.

"Isn't it? You never came when I called about Dean dying. Hell, you even _left_ us after the Daevas attack."

"I did that to protect you."

"Right," Sam said laughing slightly. "Because we're more of a target if we stay together." Sam shook his head and bit his lip as he continued to stare at John. "That is such _bull_shit."

"Sam!" Dean called out a little shocked at how Sam was acting and looked around at the ever increasing sea of eyes turned towards them.

"Watch what you say, Son," John replied evenly staring down Sam fully aware of the crowd of onlookers.

"Or you'll what? Turn me over your knee and spank me? I'm not a kid anymore, _Dad_. So don't try to justify your leaving with that load of crap. Just say it for what it is. You. Can't. _Stand_. Being. Around. Us."

Both John and Dean just sat there with slightly shocked expressions on their faces at Sam's words.

"That's not it at all, Sam," John said quietly which only seemed to infuriate Sam even more.

Clamping his jaw tightly trying to keep up the act and not to smile at how well this was going, Sam threw his napkin down on the table before starting to get up from the booth. "I'm not hungry anymore," he said before storming towards the door leaving a room full of people staring after him.

The waitress stood back a little from the table watching as the angry, young man walked away from the others and wondered what had happened. She turned back to the table slowly not sure what to do. "Coffee?" she asked hesitantly.

Dean looked up at the waitress and then got up to go after his brother. As he pushed through the door he saw Sam sitting against the Impala almost nonchalantly and his blood began to boil. "What the hell was that?"

Sam looked over at him with an unconcerned look and just shrugged. "Just thought it needed to be said."

Dean started to say something but couldn't. After a few false starts he finally managed, "What the _hell_ is up with you, Sam? Or is that the problem?"

Sam turned to him with a confused look. "What are you talking about?"

"What happened to you? Ever since you woke up from that…sickness, you've been a totally different person. If I thought it was possible, I'd think you were…"

Sam got up from the Impala's hood and squared his shoulders to meet Dean head-on. "You'd think what? That I'm possessed?"

When Dean didn't say anything Sam paused. "You think that's it don't you?" He held out his arms wide. "Well go ahead. Test me." He pulled his arms in and glared at Dean. "I'm not _possessed_, Dean."

Dean bit his lip. "I know," he said softly never taking his eyes off of Sam.

"You-" Sam started then stopped confused before Dean's answer registered. "You tested me?!" Inside, Lillian was impressed with hunter's thoroughness but knew that the usual possession tests wouldn't work on her.

"You would've done the same thing, Sam."

"_Bull_shit, Dean," Sam said now completely furious. "You don't think that about your brother."

"Yeah, well, when he's been acting like an _ass_. I do. And since we both know that your 'illness' wasn't exactly normal I can't help but wonder."

"I _told_ you, Dean. I don't remember," Sam said in frustration and then taking a deep breath huffed it out before dropping his head for a moment to cool down. "Look. If you don't think you can trust me, then don't."

Dean opened his mouth for a retort and then stopped. "What?"

"Don't. I don't care anymore. If you think I'm not _trustworthy,_ then I'll save you the worry. Just open the car and let me get my stuff."

Dean felt like a fish out of water after that blow. Sam wanted to leave? When did that happen? _How_ did that happen? "Sam-"

"Don't," Sam said holding up and hand in protest. "Just don't."

Both brothers stood there for a moment before Dean moved slowly to open the door.

Sam reached in to get his bag and computer before settling them on his shoulder never once looking up at Dean.

"Sam, please," Dean said softly hoping that Sam would listen.

"Goodbye, Dean," Sam said flatly and then walked away leaving Dean standing there holding his keys in front of the open passenger door watching Sam leave him once again.

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.

Sam woke with a start, breathing hard and staring out into the dark in confusion.

_What the hell?_

Bits and pieces of the dream drifted through his mind and only served to confuse him more.

_Why was he leaving, Dean?_ He hadn't even _talked_ to his brother in almost three years. But then why was he dreaming about them fighting? And him being possessed? Too many thoughts flitted through his mind and he couldn't make any sense of them.

"Sam?"

Jess's sleepy voice came from beside him and he looked towards her even though he couldn't really see her in the dark.

"It's okay," he said quietly reaching up to grab her hand that was resting against his shoulder and kissed it lightly. "Just a dream." Or at least he hoped it was.

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A/N: Okay. Yay! I hope it was worth the looonnnnggg wait. Let me know what you think by sending me a review. I love reviews, they help stimulate my creativity. And I PROMISE it will not be this long between updates again.


	12. Chapter 12

JESS 12

Chapter 12

Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood". But other than that, I hope I got things right.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the incredibly long wait but I was having trouble with getting the story to flow from where I was to where I wanted it to go. I think my muse went on hiatus for a while but…I've pretty much got it finished now and I WILL be posting it with more regularity up to the end.

My goal is to post a chapter every two weeks until it is finished. Hopefully, if the Gods allow, next weekend I'll have the next chapter up. Thanks to those who have stuck with me for this long and I hope this is worth the wait.

A/N2: Okay. To reduce confusion, when Sam is with Dean and John, Lillian is in control and I might refer to him as either Sam or Lillian. When he's with Jess, it's just Sam.

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John watched out the window as his two boys exchanged words and worried where this might lead.

He had hoped that he and Sam could put their differences aside and focus on the hunt knowing that Sam now knew what it felt like to lose the love of his life to the Demon. But obviously he had been wrong. He watched the discussion between the two brothers heating up and suddenly realized that he wasn't the only one. Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable at the extra attention he got up to leave. It was time to nip this in the bud before it got any more out of hand.

Flipping out a few bills to cover the tab, he quickly made his way towards the door past the watching customers and waitresses with an uneasy smile. By the time pushed through to the parking lot, Sam was heading down the road with his bag over his shoulder and Dean was just standing there watching him go.

After standing there for a moment in stunned un-comprehension he finally stepped down off the curb and headed towards his eldest son. "What happened?"

Even though he tried to cover it, John could see Dean start a little at his words and then turn sad eyes to his Dad and then John just knew. Sam was leaving. Again.

"He's gone," was all Dean could say without his voice cracking before turning back to watch Sam's retreating back until he finally turned a corner and was gone from sight.

"What do you mean gone? Where's he going?" John asked not liking his eldest's resigned tone.

"I don't know," Dean said turning towards the Impala and pulled his keys out of his pocket only fumbling them slightly as he tried to keep his emotions under control.

"Dean…you have to go after him," John said as he looked to where Sam had gone and then back to Dean.

"No, I don't." Dean's hands shook slightly and his fisted them to keep them from betraying his mind's turmoil. _How could this have happened? How could Sam say…?_ "Why couldn't you just stay for a little longer?" he asked turning to look at his Dad with disappointed eyes. "Does he really mean that little to you?"

John almost took a step back as if Dean had hit but managed to restrain it and just stood a little taller as anger flowed through his veins. _Is that what Dean really thought about him? _

"You two mean everything to me," John said bitterly. "That's why I left in the first place."

"Yeah, well…you sure have a funny way of showing it," Dean said with sarcastic flair as he stared his father down. "Have fun tracking down your lead," he managed to bite out before getting in the car.

"Dean," John said his anger rising at Dean's attitude—knowing that Dean was right—but trying not to think about. "Dean!"

Dean for his part just started the Impala and revved the engine before starting to pull away without looking at his father the whole time.

"Dean get back here right now!" he shouted as Dean pulled out of the parking space and drove off in the opposite direction as Sam.

"Damn it!" John clenched his hands in anger and then kicked the gravel at his feet sending a few stones pinging off the surrounding cars as he watched Dean drive away. He ran his hand across his face in frustration before glancing back at the diner and then headed towards his own vehicle cursing the whole way.

_Damn it! Nice one, John._

How was it, he managed to track down the most obscure hunts from seemingly innocent facts, and yet he couldn't ever seem to read his own sons' emotions?

As he reached his own truck, he forcefully jammed the key in the lock and yanked the door open before slamming it closed behind him. He beat a hand against the steering wheel and cursed out loud a couple of times at his stupidity. _Great, John, Sam's barely even out of the hospital and you're already looking for a way to split up again. Of course, he knew that it was for the best but it didn't mean he had to like it._

He _hated_ it in fact.

He hated that he had to be separated from his boys. That he hadn't been able to save Sam the heartache that he had experienced when he'd lost his girlfriend. But most of all, he hated that he had created two soldiers instead of two regular young men.

_No, Dean… We both know the hunt is more important to him. _

_Why couldn't you just stay for a little longer? Does he really mean that little to you?_

John closed his eyes against those hurtful words, but he also knew that they were the truth.

Somewhere along the way, he had lost track of what was important and let his thirst for revenge—for the hunt—take over. No matter how he looked at it, the hunt always seemed to come before his family anymore. And he knew it probably would continue until he found and killed the Demon that had killed Mary. But it didn't mean that he couldn't try and change it now.

With a final sigh and a few more curses, he pulled out his phone and hit speed dial. "Jim…we've got a problem."

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As Lillian walked down the street, she couldn't help the giddy rush that went through her at the idea that Sam was all hers now. No more pretending to be the simpering little brother or the insolent son. Now, she could explore Sam's abilities without shame.

She smiled to herself at how easy it had been to get rid of the two idiots that were keeping her from doing what she wanted. And, frankly, she was surprised with herself that she hadn't done it sooner. It would have been so easy to use Sam's powers to just kill the two hunters, but this…this had been so much sweeter.

The look on their faces alone… Ha! Priceless.

It hadn't taken much to find what buttons to push to hurt both John and Dean the most and she had pushed them with flourish.

Especially Dean's. His had been the easiest to figure out.

For all of his tough guy antics, Dean was actually pretty transparent when it came to what he feared the most. And that was Sam's disappointment in him, with only his family leaving him coming in a close second. As for John…all she needed to do was question his orders and throw in a little attitude about the hunt and he went postal.

But now she was free. And with Sam's powers…the sky was the limit.

But first things first.

After walking a few more blocks to make sure that nobody was going to come after her, she casually picked a car on a deserted side street and then used Sam's powers to pop the locks. Digging through Sam's memories, she soon hot-wired the car and was soon zooming down the highway and towards her next target.

"Next stop, Missouri."

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Sam sat staring at the book in front of him not really seeing it as he was lost deep in thought.

His dream the night before had left him wondering and curious about what it meant. He had tried to remember if he'd ever had that argument with his dad and brother but couldn't come up with anything in particular. Of course, after a while all the fights on the subject had started to blur together culminating in the one that had sent him packing.

But the things he had said in his dream?

He closed his eyes and shook himself from the depressing thoughts. He really needed to stop thinking about this. But the idea just kept nagging at him. Why that dream? Why now?

Maybe it was just his subconscious working through his feeling for his family. His discussion with Jess about his family the night before had probably triggered those thoughts and old frustrations. Plus the fact that he had seen his Dad following them earlier that day probably had just added to it. And his dreams had just taken those thoughts to action.

Wow…wasn't _that_ very psycho-analytical thank you very much.

Sam groaned in frustration and threw his head back before rubbing his hands across his face.

God, sometimes he hated how much he over-thought things.

Sighing heaving he shook himself and tried to go back to his reading.

_Okay, focus. Gotta study. _

He looked back down at his blank notebook and the open book before him and realized he had no clue what he was reading. With a little growl of frustration, he shut the book with a smack and then leaned forward to prop his head on his hands and then ran his fingers back through his hair before working his fingers into the knots at the base of his neck feeling the beginnings of a tension headache brewing in the tight muscles. He just needed to relax. Everything was fine.

Keys rattled in the lock and he looked up to see Jess coming through the door with a stack of books in one arm, and two cups of coffee in the crook of her other arm, while her purse dangled precariously on one shoulder ready to slip down her arm at any second and take out the whole works.

Sam was on his feet and over to the door in two strides reaching for the coffees before they made the trip. As she pulled the keys from the lock, Jess smiled her thanks around the few letters she had held in her mouth.

Finally having a free hand, she grabbed the couple of letters and headed towards the living room. "Ugh, thanks, I was beginning to wonder if I was _ever_ going to get home. You wouldn't _believe_ how busy the coffee shop was," she said as she dropped the books unceremoniously on the side table and then shook out her arm trying to return feeling the numb limb.

Sam just smiled and tried not to laugh as he walked towards her sitting the coffees down on the table. "Long day, honey?" he asked playfully and she just gave him a scathing glare in return.

"Just because you don't have any classes today doesn't mean you have to rub it in," she pouted slightly before coming forward and giving him a hug. She sighed contentedly into his chest as she continued to hug him feeling her shoulders finally start to relax.

Sam wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. He always loved her scent. Like…fresh flowers with a touch of vanilla.

After a few more moments, she finally started to pull away and Sam let his arms slip across her shoulders to where his thumb brushed against one of her collarbones. "Better?"

She nodded and turned away to grab her coffee before slipping off her shoes and heading towards the couch. "So what have you been doing all day?" she asked casually knowing it would draw Sam up short.

"Oh, not much just…studying," he said casually as he plopped down on the other end of the couch and she instantly swung her feet up into his lap.

Taking a sip of her coffee, she looked over at the stack of books on the kitchen table and noticed that it looked incredibly neat and tidy. "Studying what?" she asked casually.

Sam opened his mouth to say what but for the life of him couldn't remember exactly what subject it was. "Um…" When he looked back at the table and then back at Jess, he knew that he was busted. "To tell you the truth…I'm not really sure?" He smiled weakly to try and hide the awkwardness of that statement but failed miserably.

Jess just smiled at him in return. "Yeah, I could tell. That table is waaayyy too neat for you to have been in full study mode," she said pointing back at her obvious, neatly stacked, evidence.

Sam gave a lop-sided grin and blushed slightly as he rubbed her leg self-consciously. She was right and he knew it. He had never been a neat person when it came to research.

Dean had commented on many an occasion that it looked like a notebook had committed suicide and torn itself apart when Sam was researching something in particular.

"Well at least I always make it look nice when I'm done," he said sheepishly and Jess couldn't help but laugh before turning serious again.

"So what's on your mind?"

Sam was quiet as he picked at the seam of the couch and just shrugged.

"Was it about Dean?"

Sam looked up at her in surprise and she just smiled.

"You said his name in your sleep several times last night." Her eyebrows slid together then as if a thought just occurred to her and she pulled her feet up under her. "Does it have anything to do with that nightmare you had the night before?" she asked suddenly with a little worry in her voice.

Sam didn't say anything for a moment and turned his attention to the knee of his jeans. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I guess…it just got me to thinking about him I guess."

"Do you think something might be wrong?" Jess asked with concern in her voice and sat up a little straighter.

Sam went to answer and then stopped. He hadn't really thought about it that way. It had always seemed like when they were growing up that he and Dean seemed to have a sixth sense about the other and their Dad had always been the one to say follow those feelings. _Sometimes, your gut instincts are the only thing you can really trust in this life._

But, that had been before. And that had been a different life.

"No," he said shaking his head in denial. "Nah, he's fine I'm sure." But now that it had been brought up, he wasn't truly convinced that was true.

"Have you talked to him lately?" Jess asked still slightly worried.

Sam wanted to laugh at the thought. He hadn't really spoken to _any_ of his family since he left for college, but of course, he couldn't tell her that. He didn't really want to think how long it had really been. For all his talk of wanting to be normal, he missed the un-normal of his life growing up and he really missed his brother. "No, but…I would have heard if something bad had happened." _He hoped._

"Yeah, I'm sure you're right," she said softly and bit her lip before turning her gaze to her coffee cup and began fiddling with the lid.

Sam knew that Jess didn't believe in the supernatural the way that he did, and she didn't know how dangerous their life could be or had been growing up; but she was never one to think that there wasn't some kind of higher power that worked in mysterious ways.

And sometimes dreams weren't just dreams.

"You think I should call him, don't you?" Sam asked knowing the answer already.

Jess just sighed in relief and nodded in agreement before looking up at him again. "You never know, Sam. I know it sounds…crazy, but…sometimes…you just can't ignore your intuition."

The similarities between what she had just said and what their Dad always said sent a shiver through Sam and just had to nod not knowing what else to say.

Jess set her cup on the coffee table and scooted across the sit next to him and gave him a small kiss as she ran her fingers through his hair. "Call him. For me?"

Sam just nodded and leaned his forehead against hers for a moment before she pulled away.

"I'm gonna go take a shower. I'll be out in a little bit." And with that she left him alone.

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A/N: Please go and leave me a review and let me know what you think. I really like to know what you think good or bad. Thanks again for reading. See you next time.


	13. Chapter 13

JESS

Chapter 13

Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood". But other than that, I hope I got things right.

A/N: First off, a thank you to those who have stuck with this story. Also, thank you to those who reviewed. It's always nice to hear what you guys think.

A/N2: Okay. To reduce confusion, when Sam is with Dean and John, Lillian is in control and I might refer to him as either Sam or Lillian. When he's with Jess, it's just Sam.

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"_Hi, this is Sam. Leave me a message after the beep." _

Dean growled low in his throat as the message played _again_ and sighed in frustration as he continued to pace the motel room floor. "Sam, when you get this, call me…please?" He rubbed a hand through his hair and sat down on his bed. "Look, I know you're mad, but just…I'm sorry." After a moment, he finally shut his phone and threw it on the bed next to him.

God, he'd screwed up.

Not only had Sam taken off, but he wouldn't be surprised if his Dad didn't speak to him for a year. Not that they'd been on the best speaking terms to begin with, but after how he'd spoken to him…?

Dean just shook his head and then flopped back on the bed with a tired groan and closed his eyes.

"Real smart, Dean, now you've gotta figure out how to get your Dad _and _your brother back. While you're at it, why don't you just see if you can figure out a way to rid the world of everything supernatural," he grumbled to the ceiling. Man, his life just sucked some times.

After letting himself wallow in self-pity for a few seconds more, Dean decided that this wasn't going to help anybody and—if he was going to get his family back—he needed to stop the self-pity party that he was throwing for himself and get on with it. With a tired sigh he pushed himself up off the bed and started to pace knowing he always thought better when he was moving.

"Okay," he started to speak aloud. "I just got to think about this rationally. What are the facts?" He paced a couple more rounds mulling over what he knew. He knew that there had to be something going on with Sam, because even though he knew Sam had probably thought those things about him and his Dad a million times, he also knew that Sam would _never_ have said them out loud unless he had been pushed to it.

And as far as Dean knew, that hadn't been a factor. True, there was some fighting, but they hadn't been as bad as before Sam had left for college; and even then he hadn't been so bitchy towards Dean himself.

And that was another thing. Sam had been so…moody lately. He knew that he called Sam a girl sometimes, but Dean didn't even think a moody, teenage girl could rival what Sam was putting out right now.

God, it grated on Dean's nerves even now how much of a jack-ass Sam had been lately. Always seeming to pick a fight with him or his Dad, as if he was _trying _to drive a wedge between them; but that wasn't Sam anymore. Was it? No, no he knew now that Sam was in the hunt to stay—at least until the Demon was dead. But it seemed like all Sam wanted now was out…again.

Dean shook his head as he rounded for another trip across the room. "Focus, Dean, what's wrong with Sam?" Was he even sure there _was_ something wrong with his brother? He wasn't but…he just had this…feeling.

"Okay, so when did it begin?" Thinking back he tried to remember what might have started Sam's PMSing. "Was it seeing Dad again?" But that didn't explain why Sam was so mad with him. Something supernatural? "Maybe." God his neck hurt. He reached up to rub at the tight muscles as he continued to think. He wasn't sure, but something just kept nagging at him and he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

Finger.

He flexed his sore hand and stared at it remembering the vice-like grip that Sam had had on it when he had freaked out in the hospital. Twisting it to the point of almost breaking the wrist, and making Dean go to his knees in pain. That was right before…

_Funkytown, Christo, Spoonbender, Hiltz. _

_A couple of weeks later I got a call from Missouri. She had been hearing about different psychics around the Mid-West that she knew that had been turning up dead. They would get sick for unexplainable reasons and then…shortly after, their bodies would just…shut down."_

_Friends of the victims had said that a white haired woman had been to see each of them before they 'mysteriously' got sick."_

"_Old…woman? You dreamt about an old woman? Do you know what she wanted?" _

"Lillian."

Dean went to his duffel and pulled out their father's journal. "Come on. Come on." He searched for the right dates finding where he and his dad had come up against the demon and then carefully read through the following pages.

"Damn it." He threw the book across the room. "Nothing!" He stood there seething as he watched it smack against the far wall and then fall open to the first page. Pictures and medals that were tucked inside the front cover lay open to the light, and something clicked in Dean's thoughts.

"_I went to Missouri, and I learned the truth"._

"…_I wanted to know the truth and Missouri thought she could help."_

_It's my fault. She never would have known he existed if I hadn't tried to find her. _

"Sonuva-"

Dean quickly scrambled to grab his phone and pulled up a number as he started to pack his gear. "Come on. Pick up," he grumbled as he shoved stuff in his duffel and looked around to make sure he'd gotten everything. "Come on, damn it!" he shouted as he then headed for the door.

"Now is that any way to speak to a lady?" Missouri shot back without even asking who she was talking to.

Dean's knees almost buckled with relief at the sound of the psychic's voice but he quickly pushed it aside as his possible idea ratcheted up his fear for the woman.

"What's wrong?" she asked and Dean knew she could sense what he was feeling.

"Have you seen, Sam?" He was striding towards the Impala, throwing his bags in the back as he tried to think how far he was from Missouri and calculating how many hours it might take him to get to her, or if there was anyone who might be closer. Maybe-

"Honey, you've got to slow down. I can't understand a thing you're saying."

Dean stopped as soon as he got in the car and mentally tried to calm his thoughts. "Have you seen, Sam?" he said more calmly before starting the engine and pealing out of the parking lot.

There was a slight pause and then more quietly, "Honey, did you two have a fight? Because whatever it is, it can't have been that bad. I know that you're both desperate to find your Daddy, but-"

"Missouri, please…have you seen, Sam?" He was quickly searching road signs trying to navigate the busy streets as he worked his way out of town.

Missouri huffed out a breath and Dean waited with baited breath. "He's here now," she finally said and Dean's heart dropped to his stomach as a million thoughts flew through his head.

After a few more tense moments—where Missouri was obviously reading his thoughts—all she could manage was a startled little, "Oh."

Dean swallowed hard knowing that she probably knew what he was thinking and knew that she might be in danger and wished again that he was closer.

"Well, I'll see what I can do." She said as if nothing was wrong and Dean couldn't help but worry even more. "Now don't worry, child. Everything will be okay. Just…be careful?" She tried to make it sound nonchalant, but even Dean could hear the slight tremble in her voice when she said the last.

"You too," he said in the same tone and then closed the phone. If he hadn't been driving, he might have taken time to break down.

He'd only met the psychic once, that he could remember, but she had won his trust with her frank attitude and her understanding of what Sam was going through with his psychic powers. And, even though they really didn't get along, he still considered her a part of his extended family. And the things he would do for family.

He pushed a little harder on the accelerator as he hit the open highway making the Impala's engine growl and rumbled as he dialed his Dad's number. He didn't care what it took; he was _not_ going to lose another friend to this damn war if he could help it.

"Dean," John's low grumble came over the line.

"She's going after Missouri."

There was a pause on the line. "Who?"

"Lillian. She's going after Missouri. Do you know anybody in the area that can get to her quick?"

"Dean, slow down. What about Lillian?"

Dean forced himself to take a deep breath and calm his thoughts. "I think she's taken over, Sam. I'm not sure how because I tested him for possession, but I'm pretty sure that's what happened."

He could hear his dad curse through the phone and felt like doing the same. "So that's what Sam was trying to tell us before. Okay…um…I'll have to make some calls. Where are you?"

"I just left Lincoln; I won't be there for another three hours. Dad…Sam's already there." The silence on the line made Dean look to make sure the call hadn't been dropped. "Dad?"

"I'll make some calls. Call Bobby and see if he's got any ideas on how to fix this. I'll call you when I've got some news."

With that the line went dead and Dean could feel his gut twist in fear. What if they didn't make it in time and something happened to Missouri? Sam would never forgive himself.

Dean quickly dialed Bobby's number knowing that he hadn't spoken to the hunter in a while, but at the moment he couldn't worry about that.

"Hello." Came the gruff reply and Dean breathed a slight sigh.

"Bobby, its Dean."

"Dean?" the older hunter asked sounding surprised. "What the heck you been up too? I haven't heard from you in ages."

"Yeah, I know. Bobby, I got a problem. Where are you?"

"I'm at home."

Dean cursed slightly under his breath. "Do you know anybody near Kansas that could get to Lawrence like right now?"

"Not that I know of…why? What's the matter?" the older hunter asked immediately and Dean could hear the worry in his voice.

"I think Sam might be possessed?"

"What?! How the hell did that happen? I thought he was still at school."

Dean sighed tiredly. "Look, it's a long story. Short of it is: Dad killed a psycho psychic several years ago and now she's back and I think she might be using Sam to go after a psychic friend of ours."

The string of curses coming through the line even impressed Dean. "You said 'you think'. You not sure?"

"Holy water and Christo didn't work but…"

"You just know right?" Bobby said off-handedly knowing not to question Dean's feelings when it came to Sam. "Okay, I'll do some research. See what I can come up with. How did this all start?"

Dean sighed heavily and told Bobby the whole story from how Sam got sick to his Dad showing up and the whole 'miraculous' recovery.

"And you say this psychic's dead?"

Dean nodded then realized Bobby couldn't see it. "Yeah, evidently she had a hankering for other's psychic powers and would kill them to obtain them."

"But why would she go after, Sam?"

Dean bit his lip not sure how much he should tell the other hunter about Sam's powers but…this was Bobby. "He's a psychic too."

The silence on the other end made Dean wonder if he'd made the right choice. "Bobby?"

"Yeah, I'm here. When did you say your Daddy met up with her?"

"Back in 2005. It was right after that hunt for that demon back East where I got hurt and then Dad sent me on that hunt by myself."

"Right after you two stopped here," Bobby said knowing exactly when that had been. "Okay, let me do some research. I'll get back in touch with you."

"Okay. Hey, Bobby?" He waited a second making sure the other hunter was still on the line. "Thanks."

"You just haul ass and make sure you get to that brother of yours before he does something stupid."

With that, Bobby was gone.

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"Is everything okay?"

Missouri jumped slightly and put a hand to her chest trying to calm her speeding heart. "Goodness, child, make some noise when you move. You know I'm not as young as I used to be," she berated slightly as she turned to see Sam's large frame standing in the doorway behind her.

'Sam' smiled sheepishly and ducked his head in just that way, and Missouri could almost believe that this was _her_ Sam. But now that she knew the truth, she could tell the subtle differences.

"Sorry, old habits I guess," Sam said before looking up at her again. "Bad news?"

Missouri frowned for a second and then realized he was talking about the phone call. "Oh! Just one of my customers, he's been having a lot of problems with his wife lately and he wanted to know if she was cheating on him." She shook her head slightly and gave a small smile before moving towards the other room. She had to brush past Sam in the process and she tried to repress the urge to stay as far away from him as possible.

"Was she?" Sam asked with a slight frown on his face as he turned to follow.

Lillian could tell that something was different with the woman, but wasn't sure what. She silently cursed the lack of her usual psychic powers knowing that she could have known in a second what the young psychic was thinking, and the fact that that Missouri possessed those same powers of intuition made her even more jealous at the moment.

Missouri turned back towards the young man and just chuckled. "Yes, but not in the way he was thinking." She sat down in one of the easy chairs and tried not to look too frightened.

Sam just nodded but didn't press the issue as he sat down.

"So what brings you back here to Lawrence?" Missouri asked and Sam just smiled.

"Not much, I just thought I'd come and visit Jenny and her kids. Make sure they're doing okay." He smiled again and Missouri applauded the dead psychic for making this believable.

"Uh, huh, and I just figured I'd try and loose forty pounds in the next two weeks." Sam's smile faltered a little and Missouri pressed on. "Sam, why didn't you just tell me that you were having problems with Dean?"

Sam's mouth fell open and he floundered for a moment before giving a snort of laughter and shaking his head. "I guess I should've known I couldn't fool you huh?" _Was that Dean that she had been talking to? It might explain the change in her character._

"It shouldn't even have crossed your mind." She smiled slightly and then got up. "Why don't you wait here while I make us some tea and we can then…we'll try to figure this out." She started to head towards the kitchen but then Sam got up too.

"Why don't I come with you? Maybe I could help?" _I'm not gonna let you out of my sight until this is done._

Missouri paused for a second cursing her luck but then nodded with a smile. "Alright. It's just through there." She motioned towards the other door and then followed Sam into the room letting her smile slip as she followed him into the room. _Now what was she going to do?_ "So why don't you tell me what's going on with you and your brother?"

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A/N: Please press the little button and let me know what you think. I really do like to hear your thoughts. Until next time.


	14. Chapter 14

JESS

Chapter 13

Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood". But other than that, I hope I got things right.

A/N: Sorry this is a week late. Life was kind of crazy last week but now I think there are probably two chapters left to this story. One of which I will post next weekend since I got off in my timetable.

A/N2: Okay. To reduce confusion, when Sam is with Dean and John, Lillian is in control and I might refer to him as either Sam or Lillian. When he's with Jess, it's just Sam.

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Sam pushed the end button on his phone absently and then laid it down on his knee.

No answer. And not just Dean, but Dean, Pastor Jim, Bobby, and even his Dad—of course the last one he hadn't really expected to answer anyway. But the others? Fiddling with the phone absently he tried to talk himself down from his growing panic. Maybe he was just overreacting? Yeah, that was it. It was just his overactive imagination fueled by a bad dream that was then coupled with not being able to get a hold of anybody that might be able to alleviate those paranoid thoughts.

Besides hadn't he _asked_ his brother not to contact him anymore? And maybe Bobby and Pastor Jim were just out on a hunt and couldn't be reached. Yeah…that must be it. Right?

Jess chose that moment to walk back into the room with her hair in a towel and Sam sighed in resignation. Yeah right, and a werewolf didn't want to rip out your heart during a full moon. Sometimes Sam cursed their Winchester luck.

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"I just don't…know what to do anymore," Sam said hesitantly as he fiddled with his empty tea mug. "I feel like I should do something, you know, figure this out? But…"

"You don't know what Dean will say," Missouri said with understanding in her words and Lillian felt like she was going to puke.

When she'd first encountered the psychic, she'd thought that Missouri was a lot like she used to be. Full of piss and vinegar. That is before John Winchester had ruined her life. But this…_understanding_, thoughtful person just made her want to gag. She gripped her cup a little tighter fighting against the urge to roll her eyes at all this…nicety.

A strange look went across Missouri's face and Lillian had to wonder how much the young psychic could sense of her thoughts. Just to be safe…

"I just feel like I should be…figuring out how these…powers work. And why now? Why haven't they shown up before now?"

Missouri just shook her head and shrugged. "I don't know, Sam." She paused for a moment to just look at him and Lillian averted her eyes afraid what Missouri might see if she kept eye contact. "Do you want some more tea?"

Lillian looked down at her empty mug and then nodded handing her the cup with a polite smile.

As Missouri accepted the cup with own little smile, Lillian cautiously watched until she was out of the room and then quickly reached into her pocket for the glass vial she had put there earlier. Quickly unscrewing the lid, she poured the clear looking liquid into Missouri's tea. It swirled slightly before settling and Lillian palmed the vial back into her pocket as she kept glancing towards the kitchen door. She could hear Missouri banging around behind the swinging door and relaxed a little knowing that she hadn't been caught.

A few seconds later Missouri came back and Lillian accepted the mug with a muted smile before taking a sip watching carefully over the rim of her mug as Missouri sipped at her own tea.

"You asked…why now?" Missouri started out slowly and Lillian just nodded tightly wanting nothing more than to shout for her to just get on with it already. "Sometimes, psychic powers can…manifest during times of stress. Maybe…with Jess?"

Lillian ducked her head as if in sadness, but inside she wanted to just laugh. She knew _exactly_ where Sam's powers came from and they didn't have anything to do with 'stress'.

"You think?" Lillian said looking up through Sam's bangs and gave Missouri the puppy-dog eyes she knew Sam was famous for. "But…maybe if I could…" She took another sip of the hot tea hoping that Missouri would follow suit but the other psychic just continued to stare at her. _Come on. Just…drink the damned stuff already. _Pausing long enough to make it look like she was trying to summon the courage to ask something she then continued. "Would you…teach me? I think this could be a good thing," she said hurriedly seeing the change in Missouri's stance. "If I could learn how to control them, then…maybe…"

A wave of lethargic dizziness washed over her halting her words and she had to grab at the table's edge for a second to steady herself. "Whoa."

Missouri frowned in concern. "Sam?"

Lillian looked up at the other woman as her vision blurred slightly out of focus before tilting and spinning and she tightened her grip on the table's edge. "What…?" she slurred slightly feeling like her tongue weighed a ton and she blinked slowly against the exhaustion washing through her. Something wasn't right.

"Are you okay?" Missouri asked as came around the table and tentatively tried to steady him as he swayed slightly in his seat.

Her vision swayed and danced at an almost sickening pace and she had to close her eyes to try and keep from throwing up as she continued to try and stay upright in her chair. She tightened her grip on the table and…the cup. "Wha- did you…"

"Its okay, Sam, don't fight it. It's for the best."

Lillian felt like she had two ton weights tied to her body as she slumped in the chair unable to control her movements and her head lolled back letting him pry his eyes open slightly to see Missouri's concerned face leaning over her. "You…drugged…"

"I couldn't have you using my boy to hurt anyone. And besides…I thought you would've learned your lesson the first time, Lillian." Missouri's eyes flashed yellow. "Never mess with the Winchesters." A small wicked smile crossed the younger woman's face before she helped to tip Sam forward towards the table.

Sam's hand, still wrapped around the mug, tipped the cup over spilling the rest of its contents onto the table top before skidding over the edge and tumbling to floor where it smashed into a million pieces. "You…sonuva-," Lillian struggled to lift her head up off the table where it had landed but couldn't even manage that as darkness pulled at the edges of her vision.

"Don't worry, Sam. We'll get this figured out." Missouri brushed Sam's bangs out of his face and Lillian tried to pull away in disgust as Sam's eyes fluttered trying to stay awake and focus on her enemy but it was futile gesture. Blinking once more against the effects of the drugs, she tried to rally Sam's body once more but with no success and then Sam was out.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The Impala raced down the highway tearing up the miles between him and Lawrence, and with every mile Dean cursed a little bit more that he couldn't go faster. But he couldn't go any faster, if he went any faster he risked getting pulled over by the cops and couldn't afford to do that.

Beside he was already going eighty.

As he drove, he had been racking his brain for any way to stop Lillian, but all he was getting was a headache. If Holy Water and Christo didn't work maybe she wasn't a demon, but if she was possessing Sam then…was she a ghost? But she couldn't be, she'd helped lay the salt lines the other night and hadn't had any problems with the salt burning Sam's skin so...

Dean rubbed his forehead feeling the throb of the headache increase with each failed possibility. He sighed running a hand down across his aching neck and then checked his watch to see how much longer. He had to do a double take seeing that only an hour had passed. "Oh, come on!" he growled and cursed again that he couldn't go faster.

His phone rang and he fumbled to get it open while keeping his eyes on the road. "Yeah?"

"Dean? How close are you?" Bobby asked hurriedly hearing the frustration in the young hunter's voice.

"Not close enough," Dean grumbled and pushed a little harder on the accelerator as he flew past another car on the blacktop highway.

"Look, be careful. You won't do Sam any good if you crash on the way to help him."

Dean gritted his teeth in annoyance but reluctantly backed off on the gas bringing it the needle back down to eighty. "Did you find anything?"

Bobby sighed and Dean imagined he was probably fiddling with the brim of his hat. "No, not yet."

"Damn it, Bobby!" Dean roared and would've thrown the phone if he didn't need it right then.

"Hey, don't go yelling at me, son. I'm trying the best I can here."

Dean sighed and tried to tamp down his frustration a little more. "Yeah, I know. Sorry. So, now what?"

There was silence for a few moments and Dean held his breath hoping that Bobby could come up with something that he couldn't. "I don't know. I'd say try and do an exorcism on her, but since the Holy Water and Christo didn't work, then…"

"Yeah, I know, I was coming up with the same thoughts. Maybe…a combination of ghost and demon stuff?"

The line was quiet for a moment and Dean thought he could hear pages being turned in the background. "What about a binding spell? Keep her from doing any more damage until we can figure out the right combination to send her ass packing."

"But what about Sam? She'll still be in his body and I don't even want to think about what damage she could do to him in the mean time."

"Yeah, I know," Bobby said with defeat in his voice. "Look, let me call a few more people. See if I can find something. In the mean time…be careful?"

"Yeah," Dean said softly and ended the call.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Sam, is everything okay?"

Sam continued to stare at Jess with sad eyes knowing what he needed to tell her, but hating that he had to.

"Did you get a hold of Dean?" Jess asked as she pulled her wet hair back over her shoulder and sat down on the couch beside him with a worried look on her face. "Is he okay?"

Sam bit his lip slightly and opened his mouth several times to say something but each time had to stop not knowing what exactly to say.

"Sam," Jess said grabbing his hand. "Just tell me."

Sam sighed and pressed his lips together as he looked down at their entwined hands lying in his lap. "I couldn't get a hold of him," he said rather quietly not looking up at her. Not sure what look he would see in her eyes.

"So…what does that mean?" Jess asked slightly hesitant not really sure where this conversation was going.

Sam just shook his head. "I don't know. But it's not just him. I tried Dean, several family friends…even my Dad and they all…" He kind of threw his hands up at a loss of how to explain why that worried him so much. For most people, not getting in touch with their brother or family friends wouldn't send knots of fear scorching through their stomachs.

"So…what do you want to do?"

Sam just shook his head and shrugged in almost defeat. "I don't know. I just feel like…"

"Hey," Jess said stopping him by turning his face to look at hers and putting a hand on his cheek. "It's okay. I understand. You're worried. Now…what do you need to do to find them?"

Sam released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and felt a little of his tension melt away. He reached up and cupped a hand behind her neck pulling her close until their foreheads touched and just sat there for a moment letting himself relish in the feel of her warmth and love before opening his eyes to look at her once again. "Help me pack?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

A/N: There you go. I hope it was worth it and that it wasn't too out there. Let me know what you think by sending me a review and I'll post the next chapter next weekend. Until then.


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